


New Beginnings

by frapandfurious, squire



Series: Big Brothers AU [18]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bail and Breha are babies, Bar Fight, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Bubble Bath, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kaytoo is a dog, Light Angst, M/M, Married Characters, Millicent is still herself, Nostalgia, RIP Hux's Beard, RIP Millenium Falcon, Recovery, This is not how the Army works, mention of medical procedures, possessive!Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frapandfurious/pseuds/frapandfurious, https://archiveofourown.org/users/squire/pseuds/squire
Summary: Hux finds his life, career, prospects and what he thought was everything he worked forward to turned upside down after just one day gone wrong. But there's one thing he'd acquired over the years that will be there for him, always: his family.





	1. Phonecall

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was... long in the making - headcanoning back and forth, writing down ideas, organising and tweaking and "Ooooh"-ing and "Wait-a-minute"-ing with Lizz over on Tumblr. In the end we present you a true sandwich fic again - blame me for the angst and thank Lizz for the fluff, even though one of the angstiest parts in the entire fic were written by Lizz so there you have it! 
> 
> Also.... did we just round up a 100k words in this series and blazed headfirst into another 100? Apparently we did. Holy heaven, when did this happen? 
> 
> Not to forget a prudent disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The authors claim to have no idea how US Army actually works (though one of the authors tapped into her experience with Czech professional Army), and we mean no slight.

Hux closed the door to his office and leaned against it with his eyes closed. Even so he could recall every detail of it, sparse and meticulous as it was. A bookshelf full of technical literature, bound journal editions, theses of his former students on one side. A rubber plant in an enormous clay pot next to it, able to survive and even somehow magically thrive in the lack of natural sunlight, a gift from Leia. A sturdy table with a few piles - a stack of quiz tests to grade from his last lecture, some printed-out papers criss-crossed with markers to proof-read, an overflowing folder of research material on solar cells. A couple of framed photographs: his favorite - a group photo of the entire party at Rey and Techie’s wedding, Ben with the beginnings of a terrible sunburn from their vacation in California that year of Techie’s internship at SpaceX, and lastly, Rey and Techie squashed into each other on a bean bag, and in each of their arms a bundle with a little mop of hair peeking up from the top - one dark, just like Rey’s, and one lighter and distinctly coppery, just like Techie’s. Hux’s nephew and niece, currently one month old.

Next to the photos stood a thermos, still half-full of black tea. It has now gone cold, abandoned after Hux stormed out of his office earlier. His open laptop was blinking in screen-saving mode, the message still leering at him from the top of his inbox.

Command position on an overseas mission. Eighteen months in Camp Lemonnier, in Africa.

He knew, rationally, that this could happen. Even though his work was mainly teaching and research, he was still an officer. The Academy was a military institution. But he was convinced that the Army knew better than to misplace resources. Hux’s research was–

_ “Redundant, Major. With the budget cuts we’re facing, I can’t keep afloat things that don’t have absolute priority,” Director Krennic said, leaning back in his chair and not even trying to hide his smirk. _

_ “I’d say that access to clean water was on the top of this country’s list of priorities,” Hux replied, hands crossed behind his back and fingers digging into his wrist to keep himself in check. The solar powered cells his group was developing could provide cheap and reliable energy source for automatic desalters, such as could be distributed in areas hot and brewing with constant almost-war for drinking water. _

_ “Civilian welfare,” Krennic scoffed. “You seem to forget who we are and what we’ve always done to ensure America's position on the globe. Our department was founded to provide our forces with advanced weapons, not to pour money into some savage pit of dirt.” _

Back in his office, Hux twisted his lips at the memory. Of course, the advanced weapons program. Krennic’s brainchild. He was so furious two years ago when his own pet project, a satellite network of laser cannons capable of targeting land-based objects from the orbit, was shut down under the last Dem president two years ago. Now, when he got promoted to the head of the directorate, the time had come for his revenge.

_ “Besides, you’re free to put your water economizing theory to good use in Djibouti. There’s nothing better than, heh, a practical demonstration, Major.” _

_ “It’s not ready yet for practical exploitation, Sir. I need time–” _

_ “You’ve had enough time, Major. Quite enough time for you and your family-” and Krennic spat the word as if it offended him, “to live comfortably off this country’s money, I’d say. Duty calls, Major. Perhaps you can show us that you’re good for other things than wasting research funds. Back in my day, you wouldn’t even get this chance.” _

In his office, Hux’s fingers closed around the plaque on his desk -  _ Maj. Armitage Solo-Hux _ ,  _ PhD _ . A violent urge came over him, to tear it out and shove it down that old bastard Krennic’s throat.

Of course there was a reason he was mysteriously skipped for promotion twice now, during the recent years. The Army could promote progressive worldview all they liked but the people on top were still conservative to the bone.

He also remembered the rumours. That young Orson Krennic ended with multiple reprimands for misconduct under the influence of alcohol after his childhood friend Galen Erso announced his engagement. Hux got invited to Galen’s daughter Jyn’s wedding to Captain Andor some five years ago. Krennic remained a bitter bachelor.

Apparently, Krennic’s thirst for revenge was not limited to professional matters. If he couldn’t marry the love of his life, he’d make sure nobody’d get to enjoy theirs either.

Hux opened his eyes and looked down at the plaque. Major. He was forty now. Served more than his due years. He could quit.

And yet, he knew he wouldn’t. He was proud to serve. Perhaps it was a result of never knowing anything else - he’d been groomed for the Army since he was a little boy - but he felt that his purpose was here. His work fulfilled him and he was good at it. His research was promising, damn what Krennic said.

And besides, that old bastard would be retiring soon. This was just him kicking around in his final throes. If Hux waited it out–

But he wouldn’t be the only one waiting, that was the problem. 

 

*

 

“Support the head, right?” Hux adjusted his hold on his niece and looked up at Rey, eyes widening in momentary alarm when she handed him a can of beer and he suddenly realised he didn't have a third hand.

“She can do it just fine by herself, now,” Rey laughed. “Relax. You're doing fine. Remember: if she throws up at you, she likes you.”

Hux squinted into little Bree’s round brown eyes and she squinted back at him. Her tiny face seemed to go through ten different expressions in as much seconds but overall she seemed content.

“I remember you having eyes blue like those sci-fi laser swords,” he said softly, addressing Techie, who sat next to him on their sofa, with little Bail nestled in the crook of his arm and sipping from his beer with practiced ease. Hux envied him greatly.

“Most kids are born with blue eyes,” Rey shrugged. “Bree’s turned brown about a week ago. She's taking after mom, I think. Male Hux genes, on the other hand, seem to be doomed to grow up ginger,” she giggled, planting one kiss onto her son's coppery head and another on Techies cheek.

In the living room doorway, Ben stopped on the way back from his crackers-fetching quest and just enjoyed the sight of his husband, rocking his baby niece in his arms and unconsciously mirroring her beatific smile.

“I know we're not adding to the ginger pool in this city,” he chuckled after a moment, “but for the record, I think you'd make an amazing father.”

“It’s easy to be amazing when they’re handed to you in clean clothes and just fed, and then you can give them back after two hours,” Hux wiggled his eyebrows at Bree and she gurgled, probably in agreement.

“Preach,” said Rey. “Someone please tell this to poor Maratelle. Two months ago it finally clicked to her that she was going to be a grandmother, without ever knowing how to be a mother in the first place…” she was smiling as she was telling this, not mockingly, just fondly. Despite their awkward beginnings, Rey became really fond of Techie’s mother and Maratelle was determined to make up for all those lost years with Techie.

“She went ballistic and bought every book on child care she could find,” Techie put in. “And she actually read them all. Now she’s confused as hell.”

“Language,” Hux and Rey said in unison and Ben burst out laughing.

“Books or no books, kids don’t care how many you’ve read,” Rey finished, “as long as you’re there for them you’re doing great. I think that’s what it all is about.”

The unpleasant knot in Hux’s stomach suddenly grew ten times heavier.

“About that,” he muttered and cleared his throat, eyes fixed resolutely on Bree so he didn’t have to meet the eyes of others who certainly wouldn’t be smiling at him after he finished. He didn’t see how above his head, Rey exchanged a ‘ _ told you so’  _ look with Techie.

“Ah, you finally going to tell why you insisted for us to come visit all the way from Philly on a Tuesday afternoon?” Techie piped up.

Hux looked up, guilt and strange relief and then more guilt rolling inside his stomach and making him almost nauseous. “Am I really that transparent?”

Next to him, Ben perched on the arm on the sofa and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Baby, you’ve been beside yourself since you came home today. Whatever it is, I’m -  _ we are _ here for you, you know that, right?”

“Shit, you’re not making it any easier,” Hux joked weakly, the  _ language _ rule momentarily forgotten. He shook his head. Having Bree in his arms helped; he would have scratched the skin off his palms at this point otherwise.

“The things is, I’m not going to be here. Soon. For a… considerable time I’m going to be a really shitty uncle… and brother. And husband.” He finally locked eyes with Ben, silently willing him to understand.

“Another overseas mission,” Ben said so quietly he basically only mouthed the words. His whole body sagged a little and his hold on Hux’s shoulders tightened, as if he already didn’t want to let him go.

“Well, shiii...” Rey trailed off mid-word. Techie only nodded his agreement, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Direct order,” Hux continued. The words were coming easily now after the first one broke the dam. “They even cut off the funding to my project. I got a month to wrap up my courses before the end of the semester. You know how we wanted to go to Yellowstone for the academic break? Not happening - I’ll be doing drills to get myself and my unit into shape. Plus some special training.” He didn’t even realise how faster and louder he’d been getting until Bree squirmed in his arms and made a tiny sputtering sound.

“For how long?” Ben asked, still so very quiet, in the same moment Techie put in his “Where to?”

There was no way to wrap this up to make it look better so he just dropped the words straight away. “Eighteen months.”

“Oh.” To his credit, Ben was keeping up a remarkably easy face about it. Trying so hard not to make Hux feel any worse than he already did. But the understanding smile on his face was belied by the tight grip of his fingers on the fabric of Hux’s shirt. He probably wasn’t even aware of how hard he was twisting the fabric in his fist.

“I thought the Middle East was a lot quieter these days,” Techie muttered.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m being sent to Djibouti.”

“Isn’t that the World War Three Playground or how they–” Rey snapped her mouth shut too late. Hux glared at her when he felt Ben’s sharp intake of breath.

“It’s a strategic place,” he said carefully. “The French and Italians are our allies anyway, the Saudis want to have a leverage over Iran and the Japanese are there mostly to keep an eye on the Chinese.”

“Lovely spot,” muttered Rey.

Hux was inclined to agree with the sarcasm. So far, he didn’t see how his particular expertise was going to be any good in counter-espionage - but he had combat experience from Iraqi desert, however a little dusty with years, and the official mission of Camp Lemonnier was to combat terrorist threats and piracy around the Horn.

“We’ve been through this before and we’ll make it again,” Ben said resolutely, breaking into a smile that was totally unconvincing in its cheer. Only Hux could tell that Ben’s bottom lip trembled when their lips brushed in a brief kiss. A little scared but still hopeful reassurance.

He was going to miss so much.

 

*

 

Ben toweled off his wet hair as he walked from the bathroom through their living room. He paused and took it in. It had gotten a little messy over the busy week. He resolved to make some time today to clean up, knowing it might ease some of Hux’s stress.

Ben’s busy was his usual busy: KOR practice, working at the center, performances, the occasional visit with his parents or Rey, Techie and the twins. But Hux had been even busier than usual, training with his unit for their upcoming deployment next month. It’s been a more intense training regime than Hux’s usual drill and at times it was making Ben worried about what exactly was Hux going to do there - but Hux couldn’t tell him anything.

His chest clenched unpleasantly at the thought and he paused in the middle of the room and closed his eyes before he could start picturing their home the way he saw it when his husband was gone: a little colder, a little messier, a lot more suffocating.

Hux leaving never got any easier. And this was a long one. But they’d done it before and they’d do it again. Ben had never been a patient man until it came to Hux; for him, he would wait. He would just have to fill the extra time by being the best damn uncle he could, collecting moments to send to Hux.

He shook off his sadness and continued into the kitchen to make himself a midday cup of coffee. He’d spent the morning at practice with the Knights, they had lunch together, he came home to shower and now had about an hour until his Thursday afternoon classes at the center. So, time for coffee, and to tidy up.

The Knights had started to slow down in the past few years as personal lives and other commitments took priority. They still did shows but not as many and rarely as far from home. None of them were ready to stop, not yet, but they all knew things were changing. For one, age was slowly catching up with them. Ben could feel it creeping upon his joints, and he’d noticed Pete easing off the more difficult figures lately, too. The younger ones were better off but there was a time every professional dance group had to acknowledge their limits. Ben tried not to think about it; the KOR had been his whole life.

As if on cue, the photos pinned to their refrigerator door caught his eye. One of himself and Hux from their last vacation. One of them dozing on the couch together last Christmas, a sneak-photo Leia had taken. Another of Hux in uniform which Ben insisted on keeping there. A picture from Rey and Techie’s wedding beside a postcard from their honeymoon. And the most recent, a photo of Rey and Techie the day the twins were born, sitting on the hospital bed each cradling one close and smiling.

Well. Not his  _ whole _ life.

Ben smiled while he prepared his coffee. He knew Hux would be too tired to do anything tonight, but maybe he’d let Ben rub his shoulders and back while he fell asleep, or…

Just then, a familiar sound reached his ears, muffled and far away. Ben paused a moment, listening, then sighed when he confirmed it was his phone ringer. He set the mug down and hurried to the front door, where he’d dropped his duffel bag beside his shoes. He dug around it for a moment and pulled out the phone to see an unfamiliar but local number on the screen.

“Hello?” He answered as he stood, turning to head back to the kitchen.

“Is this Mr. Solo-Hux?” the woman on the other end asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m calling from Orange Regional Medical Center,” she said, calm and professional. Ben froze in the kitchen doorway. “It’s about your husband.”

 

 


	2. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the way the last chapter ended~ Well...only a little sorry. Don't worry, though, it'll get better. We love these boys, and all their friends and family.
> 
> Additional disclaimer: neither of us are medical professionals and so, while we did do research, some of the hospital/medical bits may be a little less than perfectly accurate. We aimed for "vague enough to not raise eyebrows but specific enough to tell a story", and I hope we hit that mark.
> 
> Threw some fluff in there for you to make up for last time. <3 Also we are VERY excited about the characters and side ships we're getting to bring into the 'verse through this story!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -frap

Far too many people underestimated Hux’s strength. 

They saw his lean figure, his thin wrists and pale skin, and thought him like paper. But he was steel, through and through. Ben had no doubt that had they actually fought that day in the park, he would have been pinned to the ground in seconds. He may have brute physical strength, but Hux was quick and smart and well-trained. 

He was the strongest person Ben knew, in more ways than one. 

But here, under the harsh hospital lighting, his skin pallid, shadows under his eyes, the hospital gown slipping off one narrow shoulder, he looked…frail. Breakable.

A sob escaped Ben’s lips before he could stop it. Not that there was anyone to hold back for. The nurse had stepped out to give him a moment and Hux would be kept under for at least another day, maybe two before he’d be stabilized enough for another surgery.

Blinking through the hot tears, Ben sat down in the chair beside the bed before his legs could give out on him. He slipped his hand into Hux’s, careful of the tubes and wires all around, and nearly recoiled. Hux’s skin was so cold. He was always colder than Ben, but never like this. Ben bit back another sob, focused his gaze on the barely-there rise and fall of Hux’s chest and reminded himself, over and over, _he’s alive, he’s alive_. 

 _He was very lucky_ , the doctor had said, and Ben almost laughed in hysterics at the notion that any of this could be considered _lucky_ , but he also knew the doctor was right. Anyone surviving a fucking _parachute malfunction_ would be lucky to be still breathing on their own. Hux’s pelvis was broken in several places and there were hairline fractures in his coccyx, too, and he’d almost certainly lose one kidney. _But_. But the spinal damage was minimal and the helmet has protected his head, and so if all went well, there would be no paralysis or brain damage. 

It was still early to tell, but the doctor seemed optimistic that Hux could recover if not fully, at least enough do most things, and Ben clung onto that, just like he clung onto Hux’s hand now.

Ben bent forward, pressed a kiss to the back of Hux’s hand and then ducked his head, ashamed at himself for ever wishing something would prevent Hux’s deployment. He thought nothing could possibly be worse. How wrong he’d been.

 “I’m here, baby,” he said, voice thick. “I know you can’t hear me, but I’m here, and it’s going to be okay. Whatever it takes, we’ll get through it. F-for better or worse and all that…” his voice cracked and he had to stop to take a few shaky breaths.

The worst part about this was not being able to talk to Hux about it. Whenever he struggled, when he was hurting or scared or frustrated, Hux was there. Ben had come a long way since the angry teenager who had fled from home, but still at times he found himself insecure, tossed around in a sea of conflicting emotions. Hux was like a life raft, sure and steady when he needed him. And now, more than ever, he…

“ _I need you_ ,” Ben choked out. He looked right at Hux’s face and for a moment he could imagine those pale gold lashes fluttering open and sharp green eyes meeting his. They remained closed and still. “I need you, ‘Tidge. I’m scared. So just…hang in there for me. Okay? The doctor says you’ll be alright, so _be alright_. Please…”

There was more, so much more to say, but his throat felt too tight, and no one could hear him anyway. He stroked his thumb over Hux’s cold skin, squeezed his eyes shut, and consoled himself with the only comforting thought he had left.

 _He’s alive, he’s alive_ .   


*

Ben must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes, he was hit with a wave of panic at the unfamiliar environment. It took him several seconds to reorient himself and remember why he was cramped in a too small chair instead on his living room sofa, why the lights were so harsh and the smell so sharp and antiseptic. He was in hospital, waiting for Hux to come out from another surgery. 

Then he realised what had woken him: the squeaking of wheels on the linoleum floor and a chatter of voices, both approaching down the corridor to the room Ben was waiting in. Ben jumped up, stretching and wincing at the soreness of his neck. He’d been told it’d take several hours before all bone fragments in Hux’s pelvis were reset and wired into place, he shouldn’t be back so early, something must’ve gone wrong- 

But the voices coming from outside were too loud, too heavily accented, to belong to any of the doctors Ben had spoken to so far. 

“... and then I hear him say - ‘Is your foot all right?’ - in that cheeky tone of his and I look down and he’s got his white stick jammed into that man’s foot so hard the thug dropped the purse and crawl-hopped away before I could as much as get a hit in, too.” 

The door to the waiting room opened to let in a burst of laughter followed by a young man in a wheelchair, both the arm and leg on his right side set in fresh casts, in an ill-fitting hospital gown and an army jacket thrown over his shoulders. The wheelchair was pushed forward by an unlikely pair of men - one sturdy, gruff and looking as if his skin got baked under many suns over the course of his life, wearing an oversized and comfy looking sweater, and the other slender and graceful, in a clean-cut suit, with an impish smile and unfocused eyes, hand resting lightly on the other’s elbow. 

“Ah, here you are,” said the young man. Ben’s memory lit up with vague recognition - they’ve met before, he was sure- 

“I’m Captain Andor. We met on my wedding five years ago. My father-in-law is a friend of your husband...” 

“Oh yes, Cassian!” Ben remembered. Then it hit him. Fresh casts - broken limbs - the army jacket with the insignia of Hux’s unit… 

“Please, can you tell me what happened?” he blurted out, cutting through all the pleasantries. “The doctors wouldn’t tell me how- just that Hux-” 

“They’re not cleared to,” Cassian held up his good hand. Even like this, in the hospital gown and with his leg stretched out in front of him, there was an easy commanding presence about him, something reassuring that reminded Ben immediately of Hux. He could feel himself relaxing a little. 

“And neither am I, I’m afraid,” Cassian added, with a pinch of regret. “They’re currently investigating into the technical details of what went wrong, and they’ll want to rule out any possible breach of security first. But I can tell you that Major - that your husband has put his life at stake to save mine.” 

The bigger of the two old men behind Cassian put a hand on his shoulder and patted it, somewhat awkwardly. Ben swallowed and sat back down. Of course - that was what he always knew about his husband; that if something were to happen to the men and women in his charge, he’d do his damnedest to prevent it. 

“They told me there was something wrong with a parachute,” he said, passing a hand through his hair. The stress and the dry hospital air was turning it limp and greasy. He realized he’d rushed over to the hospital straight after the first phone call; he didn’t even think to bring anything with him, like a change of clothes. He didn’t know how long he’d be here. 

“Yes,” Cassian nodded. “We’ve been training for a-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Anyway, it was a low drop. Just two seconds of freefall, to get out of the plane’s trail. My main wouldn’t open. I discarded it and activated the back-up but something got tangled, and I was falling too fast. Major was the last to jump, he must have noticed I was in trouble because he made it to me in freefall, cut off my backup and then held onto me as he activated his main.” 

Cassian’s face was pained, obviously struggling with the effort to give the his account of what happened with more empathy than like a military report, but Ben was grateful to him for the quick and clear narrative. He wasn’t sure he would’ve handled any more emotions than his own at the moment. 

“Unfortunately, we were already too close to the ground, and the parachutes are made for one man, not two. He protected me from the impact with his body. I’m… I would’ve...” for the first time, Cassian’s voice broke, and his confidence faltered. “I should’ve done better, I’m-” 

“Don’t-” Ben lifted up his head sharply, and then he winced when he realized how he’d snapped. “I mean - don’t beat yourself over it. Hux knew what he was doing. He always does,” he finished, willing a comforting smile onto his face. It probably missed its mark by a mile. 

“I just wanted to tell you, if there’s anything...” 

Ben sighed and shook his head. “Just… get better, I guess. Don’t let Hux down in that regard.” 

Cassian nodded. “I’ll do that. But in the meantime… I brought someone to keep you company, if you want.” He gestured to the two men standing beside his wheelchair. 

“Baze and Chirrut are… something like my mentors,” he stumbled a little in the introduction. The man named Chirrut grinned in his direction, rolling his pale, misted-over eyes. 

“He stopped calling us dads after Baze started wearing those ugly turtlenecks,” he loud-whispered. 

“How can _you_ tell they’re ugly?” Baze grumbled. “After forty bloody years in uniform I am going to be comfortable, dammit!” 

Cassian looked like wishing for the wheelchair to collapse with him still inside it and Ben snorted out a little laugh despite himself. 

“We’ve been taking care of Cassian since he was six years old,” Chirrut explained. 

Something pinged. Cassian fished out a phone from his jacket and pocketed it again after a quick look at the screen. 

“Sorry, I… Jyn’s looking for me.” He looked uncertainly between the two of his companions. “Ermmm…” 

“I’ll take you,” Chirrut grabbed the wheelchair and expertly turned it around. It definitely wasn't his first time handling one. 

“Try not to smash him into a wall!” Baze called after him. 

“Why would I? He _has_ eyes!” Chirrut called back without missing a beat. From Baze’s quirky smile, Ben could tell this exchange was something of an inside joke between the two men. 

Then Baze turned to him. “If you’d rather be alone, I’ll get that,” he shrugged. “But Cassian thought - and the boy’s usually right, bless him - that if you wanted to talk - well. I know what it’s like, you know.” 

Ben’s gaze slid down the man’s wrinkled, dark brown hand and caught on the gleam of a wedding band. 

“Yeah,” Baze nodded with a smile. “I bet you we had been the first wed couple in our state since the legislation went through. But even before - it wasn’t always easy. We met as cadets. Can you imagine me with that regulation shave?” He shook out the mane of his long, unruly curls and laughed. But Ben saw past the easy laugh. He knew how the Army used to be - and perhaps still was, with repercussions less obvious but still there. 

“I like it when Hux wears his longer, too,” he shared. “Every vacation end I mourn it a little.” 

“We’ve both had our fair share of worrying about the other,” Baze continued. “Our last deployment was the Desert Storm operation.” 

“Is that where...” Ben trailed off, instantly sorry for asking.

 “Yeah,” Baze gestured to his eyes, unbothered. “I was so furious. When the doctors told me he was _lucky_ . How he’ll never see again but is _lucky_ to be alive.” 

Ben was thinking exactly the same only a couple hours before, and suddenly he was glad that he wasn’t alone in that fruitless, powerless anger. 

“You know what he told me after he woke up? ‘I don’t need luck. I have you.’ And he’s been saying that ever since. Every time I got angry… he’d say that.” Baze’s eyes twinkled. “Is yours a romantic, too?” 

Ben couldn’t help it - a couple hours ago he didn’t think he’d feel anything else than despair but now he just had to laugh. It was as if an invisible weight lifted off his heart, making him breathe a little easier. If these two soldiers could weather so much and still be together in their wrinkly, grumpy and bickering years… he and Hux would make it too. They didn’t need luck as long as they had each other.

 

*

 

After a while Baze left to help Cassian gather his things and load him into Jyn’s car. The boy was cleared to go home - apart from a few fractures he escaped the accident in a remarkably good shape. Baze scribbled their phone numbers down for Ben and then clapped him awkwardly on the shoulder in a way that was so similar to Han he wondered if it was a thing one learned when they became a father or father-figure. 

Their visit reminded Ben of something that had slipped his mind in the panic of the last several hours. Now that he was calmer, he realized... 

Ben hadn't _told_ anyone. 

He should probably do that. 

With hands that still shook slightly he pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was down to 20% battery; he hadn't charged it between practice and running over here but hadn't used it much since either. There were some unimportant emails, a series of messages in the group chat with the KOR, and a request to update three apps. He swiped it all away and opened his contacts. 

His first instinct was, of course, to tell Rey and Techie. But as his thumb hovered over the call button, he couldn't bring himself to hit it. They lived hours away, they had twin babies to care for, and he didn't still have enough answers about Hux's condition to do any more than make them worry. He could perhaps trust Rey to keep a level head but he knew Techie would go _nuts._ And likewise he couldn't tell his parents or Hux's mother, because from there it was only a matter of time before word reached Rey and Techie. 

Ben swallowed tightly. He'd get an earful for it later, but he just couldn't do it. He _would_ tell them, of course, but he’d wait to have something positive - or at least certain - to tell them. He kept scrolling, suddenly feeling slightly sick and very alone. 

Another message from the guys popped in and he moved to swipe it away, then paused. 

If he couldn't tell his family, there was always the next best thing. 

He opened the message and began to type.

 

*

 

Not an hour later, Pete and Joey showed up. Pete was carrying a stuffed duffel bag and Joey a bag of what smelled like Renegados takeout. Ben's stomach growled; when had he last eaten? He wasn't sure he could. 

“Some things from your place,” Pete explained as he handed Ben the bag. “Clothes, toothbrush, phone charger, stuff like that. Riz and Manu are still there tidying up - “ 

“ - which roughly translates to _using your Netflix and making out on your couch,”_ Joey chimed in and Ben almost smiled. 

“Right,” Pete said. “And Mike is at the center getting your classes covered.” He met Ben's eyes. “We've got this. You just worry about him.” 

Ben felt a fresh wave of tears threatening. Pete and Joey could tell, and quickly drew him into a tight hug. Behind him somewhere down the hall he could hear Baze and Chirrut chatting. Even though Cassian left already, they decided to stay here a little longer, for him. Elsewhere his friends were handling the things he couldn't. Without anyone having to say it, the message was loud and clear: _you're not alone._

 

*

  
  


It felt like a lifetime had passed since Ben had last seen his husband's eyes. In reality, it had only been short of two days, but every minute felt like a week. 

Ben spent the whole time at the hospital, in spite of regular assurances from the staff that he could go home and they'd call before waking Hux up, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving. He felt better there where he could see Hux with his own eyes and get updates on his status. 

He slept in the chair and drank what must have been gallons of coffee. He finally caved and showered. He practically wore a hole in the floor from getting up and pacing with nervous energy. 

The last surgery went smoothly and finally, finally the moment came when they would lift the sedation and allow him to wake. 

Ben stepped back against the wall, out of the way, as they wheeled Hux's bed in and got him settled and hooked back up to various drips and machines. 

“He's awake now,” a nurse told Ben when she caught him peering over to see Hux's face. Hux's eyes were shut but his breathing seemed different from before. “But he's still very tired. There's been a lot of stress on his body and he needs lots of rest. He'll be a little out of it at first,” she added, “so try not to overwhelm him. But when we woke him he was able to answer some simple questions. When he's more alert the doctor will come in and explain everything.” 

Ben could count the number of times he'd seen his husband truly _out of it_ on one hand. It was usually Ben ending up in ERs and clinics for various dance injuries, and there was of course the time with his wisdom teeth. He nodded in agreement. 

Once Hux was settled, the nurses and aides finally left and Ben was able to return to his bedside seat and slip his hand into Hux's. This time, Hux felt it and turned his head in Ben's direction with a little exhale, eyes still closed. 

He still looked so pale, so fragile. The surgeries were done but the hardest part was yet to come. 

Ben thought back to all those other times, all the injuries and physical therapy, the times Hux had driven him to and from appointments and massaged out aches and doted on him. Never did he complain, other than occasional jokes at Ben's neediness, which never seemed to actually bother Hux. Caring for Ben gave him the same sense of structure and usefulness that he needed in all areas of his life. 

Now Hux needed Ben. Strong and clever as he was, he was still only human. 

Ben ran a thumb over his wedding band, an old habit. He looked at his husband's drawn face and resolved then and there to be strong for him, to put aside his feelings and do whatever Hux needed, _be_ whatever he needed. Anything at all. 

“Tidge?” Ben asked quietly. 

Hux's eyes slowly opened. 

They were a bit hazy, the lids still heavy, but they moved around, taking things in. His brow was pinched but when his gaze landed on Ben his face relaxed. 

Ben wanted to cry, to lunge forward and curl around Hux, to spill everything that had happened over the last few days. But he couldn't do any of those things without overwhelming Hux, so he did the only thing he could. He smiled. 

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said. He brushed his thumb over the back of Hux's fingers. Hux’s wedding ring was missing; Ben would have to figure out what they'd done with it. 

Hux blinked slowly. His mouth opened, closed, he swallowed and paused as if finding his voice.

 “Ben,” he finally said, voice hoarse from disuse. 

“Yeah,” Ben replied, smile widening at the recognition, “yeah, babe, it's me. I'm here.” 

“What happened?” 

“The doctor will be in soon, he'll be better at explaining it than I am. But you were...there was an accident. In training. You're in the hospital now, but it's going to be okay.” 

“An accident...” Hux’s face scrunched a little as he tried to remember. 

“Don’t worry though,” Ben added in the too-quickly way that would normally make Hux worry _more_. Hux didn’t seem to notice but his focus returned to Ben. “All you need to know right now is that you’re a hero.” 

Hux’s face softened again and Ben just couldn't help it. He reached his other hand out and cupped Hux's jaw, stroking his thumb over his cool cheek and the scratchy stubble on his chin. Hux leaned into the touch with a sigh. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Sort of...heavy.” 

That was a relief at least. He wasn't in pain. 

“Are you thirsty? Do you need anything?” 

Hux's lips twitched up a little at the questioning. Ben could imagine the gentle teasing he probably wished he was coherent enough to say. 

Instead, Hux gave a tiny shake of his head. “No,” he said. “Just…” he pressed his face more firmly into Ben's hand. 

 _Just you._  

Ben's throat was suddenly far too tight. He didn’t dare try to speak, so instead he leaned forward, careful not to bump anything important, and softly kissed Hux's forehead. 

“I'm here,” he said again. “Everything's going to be okay.”


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux makes the worst patient. Kind of.

The doctor was a very good one. Obviously, not just an experienced surgeon, but a man with empathy and a gift for a quick guess on the patient’s character and how to approach them best. Within seconds of walking into the room to talk to Hux he seemed to understand that Hux appreciated clear facts, realistic prognosis and no beating around the bush about the bad news.

Ben fought to keep a brave face when he heard the account, even though the outlook was hopeful. Long weeks of recovery and at their end maybe the injury would heal without leaving behind any chronic pain, and Hux might even regain a full range of movement. Maybe, might, Ben heard and his heart ached. What if this meant a permanent discharge from the Army? Hux had dedicated all those years to service, the Army was his whole life - but Hux only nodded. The ominous notion of discharge hanging above his head didn't seem to bother him - if anything, he ignored it as if it wasn't an option at all. If there was a chance to resume the life he had, he would not miss it, whatever effort it took.

The first effort would be to wait for the bone tissue to knit back together, for the torn muscles to heal, for the bruising to fade. There was no way to make time run faster. Hux’s memory of the accident came back in chunks - he still couldn’t remember the actual impact, or, how he’d put it, “why I landed on my ass like an idiot who never seen a chute before”, but he could give his account of Cassian’s chute malfunction to the investigating officer who came in a couple of days later to question him.

Ben had spent that hour in the hospital cafeteria, facing a cross examination of his own.

“You didn’t think we would’ve liked to know?!” Rey sputtered. “My favorite brother could have  _ died _ without me having the chance to- to-”

“So  _ he _ ’s your favorite brother now?” Ben acted outraged.

“This is Germany all over again!” Rey accused him. Ben’s face fell - he wasn’t proud of his poor judgement that time when he’d missed his plane and decided to  _ not  _ tell anyone before it was absolutely necessary, to spare himself being called an idiot… only to get called even bigger idiot when he finally did, because at the time everyone already presumed him dead. He didn’t know the plane was going to fall, for God’s sake! But this- this was unfair.

“Rey, lay off it,” Techie said, always the one faster to forgive. “Armie wasn’t about to die. And we couldn’t very well all be here anyway.”

“I still don’t like it,” Rey glared. “Because of - look at him!” she gestured at Ben’s face with a frantic wave of her hand. “He looks like death warmed over. Never coped well with misery-”

“I’m right here, you know-”

“Shut up! Next time, I don’t want you going through the worry alone!”

She sniffed, the rage spending itself out in that one outburst. Ben reached around her chair and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s fine now,” he murmured. “And I very much hope there won’t be a next time,” he added, mouth quirking up. Both Rey and Techie snorted in unison at the weak joke.

“Is he going to get back into the ranks?” Techie asked. “I thought with an injury like this-”

Ben shrugged. “He’s certainly determined to try. Of course that mission is off the table but - he can get back to teaching, and research, I guess.”

Techie looked as if he wanted to say something but decided to hold it back. Ben kept his own doubts to himself, too. He decided to change the subject.

“Genevieve said she’d drop by sometime next week,” he related the phone call he had with Hux’s mother earlier. “She has to wrap up the exhibition in San Francisco tomorrow and arrange for the paintings to be transported back to Boston. I put her on loudspeaker, Hux wanted to hear how the exhibition went.”

“People freak out when they realize her painting in our living room is an original and not a reproduction,” Rey shared a bit of pride over the piece Genevieve gave them for their wedding.

“Ask her to bring some pastels and sketchpads,” Techie’s eyes twinkled. “I bet Armie’s about to gnaw his fingers off with boredom by now.”

“You have no idea,” Ben laughed. “His work laptop was the first thing he asked for this morning.”

“What about Brendol?” Rey asked quietly after a momentary pause, addressing Ben but watching Techie for any sign of discomfort. She knew that her husband, no matter how badly Brendol fucked up his childhood, still hadn’t quite come to terms with the complete rejection from his father after the wedding.

Ben scowled into his cup of cooling coffee. “There’s no way he doesn’t know,” he grumbled. “I know he’s retired but so is general Sloane and she called right away, and sent a Get Well Soon bouquet and was really sweet. I can see why ‘Tidge likes her so much. So there’s that - I know the incident won’t make the news at least for a couple of months but there’s investigation and the people at the Academy know, I’ve had messages from Hux’s colleagues-”

“-but none from him, right?” Rey cut through his rambling right to the core.

“At this point, if I saw his caller’s ID on the screen I’d shut it off and block his number,” Ben admitted, a bit guiltily and a lot more angry.

“Hate to say this but you’d probably do the right thing there,” Techie finally said. The three of them shared a knowing look. Hux had enough to go through as it was, adding his bitter and vicious father into the mix wouldn’t have done any good. 

 

*

 

It’s been two weeks. It irritated Hux how exactly he knew. How little he had to do that he could count down every second of those two weeks, feeling them like the metaphorical straws on his back, ever-growing pile weighing him down with their futility. It’s been two weeks since his release from the hospital, two full months since the accident, and Hux was supposed to be getting better.

The doctors warned him that his recovery would take time. He needed to regain his muscle strength after six weeks in bed, and getting back his full range of mobility would take even longer. He knew that it would hurt. He knew it would be a struggle.

He didn’t know he’d be facing such things like getting stuck at the kitchen table after only as much as trying to have one damn cup of tea, wanting to get up but unable to because of the muscles cramping and pain shooting through his lower back as if someone was pulling red-hot barbed wire through his spine. It wouldn't be a problem if he took his prescribed meds after lunch, which he didn’t. He shouldn’t be needing them so often anymore. He should be getting better, dammit!

“‘Tidge?” called Ben’s voice from the hallway. Bags of groceries thudded against the floor and Ben’s head peeked into the kitchen, water dripping from his rain-soaked hair. “You up?”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Hux replied, trying to keep the edge off his voice. “Of course I’m up.” Another irritating thing, how much he needed to nap these days. A side-effect of the pain meds, sure, but still. So much time wasted. “I just made myself some tea.”

“Yeah,” Ben’s voice was coming from the bathroom now, a bit muffled. He was probably toweling off his hair.

“Sorry it’s taken me so long, the rain got so thick one moment I swear I couldn’t see five meters ahead, two vans ahead of me nearly jammed it into each other. I thought I’d be back before you woke.”

Hux took one deep breath through his nostrils and let it out. “It’s fine, Ben. I’m capable of fixing myself a cup of tea.”

The deep breath shifted his ribs and pulled at his back muscles, flaring up with pain. He never really considered how many muscles and bones were in human body before they decided to give him hell.

“I know,” Ben walked in, smiling. Completely unaware how his continuous, unwavering, affectionate fretting of the past two weeks was riling Hux up. He changed into a dry t-shirt, grabbed his own mug from the cabinet and leaned down to drop a kiss to the crown of Hux’s head. “I could use a cup right now,” he said, “I’ll get us some biscuits to go with it,” and with that he reached for Hux’s mug before Hux could move it away.

It was cold. Ben frowned at the stale dregs of tea at the bottom, the tea bag stuck to the side of the mug - Hux never left it there while he drank - and then at Hux.

“Baby… How long have you been sitting here?”

Long enough for the mug to get stone cold, and his spine turn into a hot iron poker stuck up his back. Without the meds, the after-lunch nap wasn’t happening. Hux just wanted some tea before he would get some work done, preferably before Ben would get back from the store. But then he sat down without thinking and realized he couldn't get back up.

All too knowing, Ben’s eyes wandered over to the counter. The untouched painkillers still lay there. Hux cursed himself for forgetting to hide it. “Oh ‘Tidge...”

Shaking his head, Ben popped two pills from each package and brought them to the table together with a glass of water. Hux glared at them, fighting to keep his eyes down so he wouldn’t glare at Ben. Ben didn’t deserve this, a little part of his brain repeated over and over.

“I don’t need them.”

“You know you do. It’s part of the recovery. You heard the doctor. Following doctor’s orders doesn’t make you weak, ‘Tidge.”

Hux felt rage bubble up alongside the pain. It was getting harder to keep both in check.

“Come on. Your back must be killing you, sitting on this chair for god knows how long. Down with them and I’ll help you to bed, we could watch that movie you–”

Ben didn’t get to finish what movie he had in mind. The mug shattered against the wall next to his head. He ducked but still he got a splash of cold, over-steeped tea behind his collar. 

 

*

 

The suddenness of the act shocked Ben but not the act itself. He was waiting for Hux to snap for almost a week now. He knew how badly Hux coped with dependency, with needing help with mundane everyday tasks. Topped up with the feeling of uselessness - there wasn't much Hux could do from his computer at bed - and yet, ever since his release from hospital, Hux was nothing but calm, collected, hiding any discomfort and hell-bent on the painstaking road to recovery with single-minded determination that didn’t take prisoners, metaphorically speaking. He had to lose it sooner or later.

But as he lifted his head, the sight that greeted him wasn’t Hux’s face red with fury, eyes blazing and mouth ready to spill words that Ben knew Hux wouldn’t mean, and Ben wouldn’t hold them over him. If Hux needed to storm, Ben was here to catch the brunt of it. Hux would feel better afterwards. Ben was ready. But Hux was not.

Instead of furious, Hux’s face was appalled. Eyes wide and welling up, sunken cheeks drained of all color. His fingers twisted over the spot his mug had stood earlier - he took a shallow, uneven breath - and then he broke.

“Ben… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I could’ve hit you, I almost hurt you...”

Oh shit. Even after so many years together, Ben forgot that what worked so well for him - throw some things around and then clean up the mess - wouldn’t work at all for Hux. His husband processed emotions very differently, and blind rage was not cathartic to him. It was shameful.

Ben rushed over, gathering Hux up in his arms and muffling the slight groan of pain in his tea-stained shirt. Even now, Hux struggled.

“I’m so–”

“It’s nothing. Look at me, pumpkin. It’s all right.”

“It’s not!” Hux was trying to push away from Ben. “I attacked you– I  _ wanted to hit you _ –”

“Baby, you underestimate my reflexes,” Ben laughed nervously and then trailed off when it was clear joking wasn’t going to make it any better. His Armitage was well on the way to absolute self-loathing and this was not the way all his pent-up energy of two weeks was supposed to get out.

“You– I hate it, I hate this, not you, please–”

“I know. Baby, I know. I understand.” Ben was holding him, trying to rub the lightest soothing circles into his shoulders. Hux’s body was twitching, either with suppressed sobs or with pain, it wasn’t the first time he purposely skipped his meds and he could get so oversensitive with pain that even the softest of touches anywhere near his back hurt.  

“I’m horrible. Mean and ungrateful and useless. I’m not getting any better and you’d be far better off not having to look at me...”

Ben felt anger rising up from his stomach and swallowed against it. Now was not the time to get mad at Brendol even though Ben sometimes swore he was going to find the man and throttle him with his bare hands for ever making his son believe that caring for him was a chore.

“‘Tidge. I’m grateful for every day I can look at you.”

And then, because words clearly weren’t going to convince him, Ben tilted his husband’s chin up and kissed him.

It was perhaps meant to be a chaste kiss, a comfort in a moment of distress. But it’s been too long, far too long since Ben last got his lips on his husband’s. It’s been just pecks on the cheek or to his hair ever since Armitage was released from the hospital and Ben thought it was good to hold back, to give over the control on when would they begin to be intimate again since Hux was in too much pain more often than not, but perhaps that had been a mistake, too. Useless, Hux had called himself, and perhaps he didn’t mean only his ability to work.

But now Hux was kissing him back, and Ben couldn’t hold back anymore. He wanted to prove to him that no amount of sponge-baths could ever make him appear undesirable to Ben. But more than that, he just wanted to touch him, taste him, get lost in him. Right now, he needed that more than breathing.

“Please,” Hux whispered when they parted for breath, and that was the only confirmation Ben needed. He scooped his husband up into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. 

 

*

 

Hux trembled, gasping for breath, and screwed his eyes shut, riding out the sensations. Every caress, every brush of Ben’s lips against his skin felt so sharp after weeks of meds-induced numbness. Pain was there, too, but tolerable and almost forgettable now when he was lying on the new mattress Ben bought specifically for him as per the doctor’s recommendation. And even that small twinge was easily overlooked under the onslaught of pleasure he’d been missing so, so much.

If he feared that Ben would be too gentle with him, he couldn’t be more wrong. Ben was  _ devouring _ him. There was nothing teasing in the kisses trailed down his stomach, nothing too cautious in the grip of his hands on Hux’s thighs. Ben’s kisses bordered on bites and Hux was certain his neck, chest and hips would be blooming with bruises the next morning, and he loved every second of it. He couldn’t reciprocate much and some part of him knew that Ben didn’t really want him to. He limited himself to winding his fingers into Ben’s hair and pulling, gently first and then sharply when Ben groaned appreciatively at that, and the sound alone had Hux coming in his husband’s mouth, harder than in ages.

When he got his breath back it was to the helpless moan of Ben coming into his own hand, face tucked into the crook of Hux’s neck, following just a couple of seconds after Hux’s orgasm. Well. Hux regretted a little he didn’t get to offer a hand but if Ben could still get so wound up just by sucking him off, it made away with at least one insecurity nagging in Hux’s head. Ben still wanted him. It was a comforting thought.

Beside him, Ben wiped his hand off on his discarded t-shirt and then flopped back next to Hux, snuggling close and burying his face under Hux’s ear. His chest still heaved with laboured breaths, and as Hux continued to pet him, the movements weren’t getting any calmer. Hux nearly cursed himself when he realised that Ben wasn’t just catching his breath anymore. With both his arms snug around him, Ben was silently crying.

“Ben… darling… what’s wrong?”

“I… nothing, it’s stupid,” Ben mumbled into his skin. Hux craned his head to get a better look at him and tapped the tip of one endearingly large ear.

“Don’t give me that. Please, tell me.” Long hair - it’s gotten so long again, Ben must have missed at least two appointments with his hairdresser - ever since the accident, Hux realised with a twinge of guilt - fell over his eyes and Hux carded it back with his fingers.

“I just...” Ben ducked his head down and hid his face back against Hux’s neck, “I think I was just afraid I’d never get to have this again...” and his voice broke again on the last words, hitched with embarrassment and pain that Hux felt had run far deeper than those simple words seemed to imply.

Not just this, the sex. But to hold Hux in his arms, breathe in the smell of his skin. Lying next to him in bed, sitting next to him while watching movies, having him in his life.

It suddenly occurred to Hux that ever since he woke up in the hospital, he never saw Ben cry, or even as much as talk about it. From that first moment onward, when he realised the extent of damage to his body and what would it take to recover, he’d focused all his energy forward. He didn’t waste time reflecting on the accident, he kept his mind resolutely fixed on taking one step after another towards getting better. It was clear and well-defined for him - he’d been given a starting point, a sharp line between before and now, and he knew that looking back would only impede him.

But Ben… Ben had spent long hours at his bedside while Hux was out of it, in meds-induced sleep after they stabilised him and between the surgeries. Almost a day when he didn’t know for sure whether Hux would wake up at all, even though the doctors must have assured him that he would. And then Hux did wake up, and Ben had smiled, and told him he was a hero, and then the doctors told him the hard facts about his body and there was nothing to ruminate on, the only thing Hux knew to do was to accept it and move on. And move on he did, outlining his recovery in a series of milestones - getting off the pain medication, going through with the physio, regain his former agility - and in his anger at the perceived failures of his body he forgot that Ben never got a moment to process his own pain. That Ben must have been terrified, helpless and powerless, and then in a matter of moments he had to put it all away, and focus on Hux.

Weeks. Weeks of Ben’s daily visits to the hospital before Hux’s cast could be taken off, and then weeks of being released home but having to come back every other day for physio. Weeks of Hux holding back his anger and not seeing that Ben needed to let go just as much as he did.

But he could still make it right. He held Ben tight and whispered soft words into his hair, and eventually Ben’s shaking subsided and he stopped clinging to Hux as if afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m sorry about the mug,” Hux mumbled eventually, feeling the now familiar drowsiness taking over him. “‘T’was my favorite.”

It was the orange mug with the dance group logo the group had given him, as to the honorary seventh member of the  _ Knights of Ren _ .

“Worth it,” Ben kissed his shoulder and pulled the covers over them both. 

 

*

 

The next morning, Ben seemed as if he’d got relieved of some pain himself. Smiling easier, speaking louder - Hux hated himself for not noticing how  _ careful _ , how drawn-back Ben had been during those past weeks, constantly checking himself to put Hux first.

But that morning, just after breakfast, he went about tidying up with a kind of restless energy, clearly looking forward to something. As if letting go of his suppressed fear the day before finally allowed him to breathe and enjoy the world outside their own little bubble.

Finally he came to a halt behind Hux, wrapping both arms around him and burying his nose in Hux’s nape. His breath tickled when he spoke.

“A deal, pumpkin.”

He held up the bottle of Hux’s prescription medication.

“You’ll be taking these just like the doctor told you, and I’ll stop breathing down your neck.” He blew a huff of air down Hux’s shirt collar to emphasise his point and Hux squirmed, holding back laughter and failing.

“I got a lot of stuff to catch up with at the studio,” Ben continued. “I’ll have my phone on me all the time so you can call me if you need something but I think my brave-” a kiss landed on his ear “-strong-” another on his cheek “-soldier-” another kiss and this time Hux was quick to turn his head and catch it with his lips - “will do just fine without me for a few hours.”

Hux agreed with the deal wholeheartedly. It hit him how much he missed Ben’s trust - not in himself, Ben would never give up on him - but in their future.

“And if you’ll be too sore and too proud to admit it tonight,” Ben added, fluttering his long eyelashes against Hux’s cheek, “I’ll just make you feel  _ very _ good again.”

“Only when I’m sore?” Hux pursed his lips in a pout. Ben caught them lightly between his teeth and giggled when their noses bumped at the awkward angle.

“As if I ever needed an excuse, gorgeous,” Ben released him, trailing his fingers down Hux’s arm and then lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles. “Need to go before I’m late again.”

Hux listened to the door click shut after Ben and then set about his morning routine of exercises. Stretching the stiff muscles in a series of careful increments didn't look at all so exhausting but still left him dripping with sweat and aching all over. But today he noticed what he'd been probably overlooking for the past few days in his stubbornness: he was making progress. Small, but very much there.

More content with himself than in weeks he headed for the bathroom. What he wouldn't give for a nice long soak - but when even lying down in bed was a maneuver to be carefully planned, getting into the tub on his own would have been a very stupid idea. Shower it was, then.

Shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, he caught a sight of himself in the mirror and stopped.

Of course he’d seem himself since the accident - washing his face, brushing his teeth - but up to now he subconsciously avoided paying any attention to his looks. No need to adding more to his already threatening amount of self-doubt. But now, with the echo of Ben’s  _ gorgeous _ at the back of his mind… he stopped and looked.

Two months gone without a shave.

His facial hair has gotten long past the scruff stage. He’d grown a  _ beard _ . It was surprisingly thick, considering his rather thin ginger hair, and soft, long enough to curl slightly along the curve of his jaw. It made his face look longer, the rounded edge of his jaw more pronounced. He’d thought Ben would dislike it - him letting himself go like that. But if the way Ben rubbed his face, his neck against the beard like a big cat last night was any indication, Ben didn’t find it repellent. At all. Maybe quite the opposite.

Hux grinned at his image. It’d need fixing - a little trim in places to make it look less like accidental product of neglect and more like deliberate choice. But tonight, he was going to make  _ Ben _ feel very, very good indeed. 


	4. Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing is one thing. Life returning to normal is another.

Ben stood in the kitchen, facing the calendar hanging on the wall there, marker in hand as he updated it with his upcoming class schedule, doctor’s appointments, Rey and Techie’s next visit.

He sighed as he lowered the pages back to the current month. There, Hux’s past few weeks of therapy sessions were written in and then crossed off as one by one they passed. At the end of the month, on that very day, in big bold letters was written _Health Assessment_.

Hux had made huge strides. On a casual glance, you’d never tell there was ever anything wrong with him. He walked with his usual straight-backed grace, drove a car, took the stairs, rolled around on the floor playing with Bail and Bree - or, the BeeBees, how Rey used to call them.  There was still some pain, some stiffness and fatigue here and there, but the pain meds were on an as-needed basis.

The only question now was whether or not Hux had regained enough of his previous strength and agility to return to duty. That was the goal Hux had worked towards every day since waking up and being told what the damage was.

Ben didn’t dare ask _what if_. What if Hux didn’t pass the assessment, what if he was discharged, what if the career he’d dedicated his life to was taken from him, just like that? He knew better than to raise these questions, to offer Hux even a shred of doubt, because then Hux might get it in his head that Ben didn’t believe in him and nothing could be further from the truth. He’d watched Hux’s strength and resilience through all this and thought his husband even braver and stronger than he was before. Whether the military would see that was another matter entirely.

So he kept his worries to himself and helped Hux in every way he could, and then when the time came to step back and let Hux be more independent, he did that, too.

Still…

“Do you want me to go with you?” Ben asked when Hux entered the room, buttoning up his shirt. Any other day Ben might have caught his hands and dipped in to kiss at his throat, but today he knew it wouldn’t be welcome, Hux was far too preoccupied with the assessment.

Hux only looked exasperated by the question for a second before his face softened. He knew Ben didn’t mean any harm, that he was only so overprotective because the accident had shaken him, not because he thought Hux needed it.

“That won’t be necessary.” He buttoned the top button. “Besides, I know you have work, you don’t have to move around your day for me.”

Ben smiled and nodded. “Fair enough. My last class ends pretty early, though. Can I at least offer a ride home? We could stop and pick up something to eat.”

Hux crossed the room to stand beside him. “Deal. I’ll text you when I’m ready.” He kissed Ben’s cheek. “Have a good day.”

Before he could walk away Ben caught his face and dipped in for a proper kiss. “You too,” he said quietly. Their eyes met. Up close, Ben could see the well-hidden trepidation in Hux’s gaze. Hux only nodded, then grabbed his wallet and keys and left.

 

*

 

Work at the center provided just barely enough distraction to keep Ben from worrying over Hux. _Barely._ In a moment of downtime between classes and setting up and cleaning up he sought out Mike, who was sitting on a bench chugging down water, a sweat-damp towel slung around his neck. When he heard Ben plop down across from him he lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth. 

“It's today, huh?” 

“That obvious?” 

“Your leg, for one.” 

Ben glanced down to see that he was, in fact, nervously bouncing one leg. He put a hand on it and forced it to stop. 

“That and you've looked only half here all day,” Mike added. “Man, _relax_.” 

“ _Relax_?” Ben countered, a little higher than he'd have liked. “This is my husband's career on the line. His whole life.” 

Mike gave him an odd look, almost spoke, then seemed to change his mind with a shake of his head. He stood and tossed the water bottle into his open duffel bag. 

“If I know one thing about you two, it's that you can get through anything. It's like… your strengths and weaknesses and his align or something. Like machine parts. You're strong individually but together you're unstoppable.” He shrugged and hoisted the duffel bag over one shoulder. “Besides, if he could put up with being married to you all these years, what's a little thing like this?” 

Ben shot him a scowl without any real heat, and let it shift into a small smile as Mike walked past and messed up his already messy hair. 

“Hang in there, boss. And let us know how it goes, yeah?” 

“Yeah. I will. Thanks Mikey. Now go shower, you're disgusting.” 

“Sure thing, boss.”

 

*

 

Mike's reassurances only lasted him until about halfway through the drive to get Hux. By the time he was parked across the street outside the Academy gate, leaning against the side of the car, his foot had started tapping again and he kept pushing his hair back out of his face on habit. Finally he folded his arms and crossed one leg over the other, willing himself to stay still. Worrying wouldn't change the outcome. That's what Hux would say. 

Every time someone walked out, Ben looked up, both dreading and hoping it was Hux. 

Finally he spotted the familiar head of bright hair, the blue shirt Hux had been wearing today. 

Hux hadn't seen him yet. In fact, he seemed not to even be looking. He stopped on the sidewalk, pulled out his phone, read something - most likely the text from Ben letting him know he was there - then pocketed it again without replying. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself and then looked up. 

He spotted Ben almost immediately - admittedly, Ben was hard to miss - and began slowly walking towards him. 

As he drew closer Ben took him in and his heart dropped into his stomach. 

Hux looked...defeated. Like a commanding officer whose battalion had been wiped out. Ben flinched at himself for making the comparison; if that look meant what he thought it meant, Hux wouldn't be commanding anyone again. 

His hair was slightly mussed out of its perfect order, that was the first clue. His shirt was rumpled and coming slightly untucked at one side, as if he went to use the bathroom and didn’t really care how he looked after that. 

But the real tell was his expression. Hux's eyes were downcast and void of light, his face almost sickly-pale, his mouth set in a hard line. That wasn't the face of a man who'd gotten what he wanted. 

Hux stopped a few feet short of Ben, still avoiding his gaze, hands clenched at his sides. 

Ben gave him a moment to make the first move. When he didn't, Ben raised both arms a little. An invitation. 

Hux's eyes flicked up to Ben's then down to his open arms. He let out a slow breath and stepped up to him, let Ben draw him in closer, though his arms remained hanging at his sides. 

“I'm so sorry, Tidge,” Ben whispered. “You worked so hard…” He slid his hands down Hux's arms to his fists and gently worked the fingers open, revealing the harsh marks of nails dug into the palms. He stroked his fingers down over the damaged skin, not quite able to manage a scolding look. 

Then he wrapped his arms snug around his husband and just held him. Hux went without protest, his head dropping onto Ben's shoulder, but he didn't return the embrace, as if he needed the comfort but didn't feel he deserved it. Ben only held on tighter. 

He could feel the flutter of Hux's soft lashes against his neck. There were no tears, maybe there would never be any. Maybe there would be more broken mugs or maybe it would just be more of this, numb silence. Ben would replace every mug in their kitchen if it meant Hux worked through these feelings rather than bottle them up. 

Hux was so tense in his arms. Ben wondered if it was purely from emotion, or if he was stiff or sore. He didn't dare ask, but he rubbed one hand up and down over his lower back, a silent plea: _if this hurts, please tell me._  

After several long moments Hux finally spoke, his voice a quiet rasp barely audible over the breeze. 

“Guess I'm not your soldier anymore,” Hux said flatly. Ben couldn't tell if he was trying for a joke or simply stating fact but either way, his chest clenched unpleasantly. 

“Babe...this happened because you _saved Cassian's life._ You're the bravest, strongest person I know, and you're a fucking _hero_. You don't need a uniform to be those things. Not to me.” 

Hux didn't answer, but his shoulders did relax a little, and one hand came up to settle on Ben's back. His fingers clenched in the fabric of Ben's shirt. 

“They just...asked a couple of questions, looked at the hospital records, and checked off boxes on a list, like...like they were inspecting a piece of equipment.” 

Ben didn't know what to say to that, but he knew it would be nothing nice if he did. After Hux fought and struggled day after day, after all that, to be tossed aside so easily...he  knew it was for a reason, that there were strains of the job Hux would simply no longer be able to manage. But it made his blood boil, and he curled his arms around Hux more snugly, as much to keep himself from storming inside and giving them a piece of his mind as it was to offer comfort. 

“Yeah, and they’ll give me a medal, apparently,” Hux added after a moment, with bitter sarcasm. 

“For Cassian - baby, they fucking _should_ _._ ” Ben insisted. He knew honors wasn’t what Hux wanted, though. 

“...can we just go home?” Hux mumbled against his neck. Ben wasn't about to argue. 

“Do you still want to grab dinner?” He asked as he pulled back to look at Hux's face. 

Hux moved around him to get into the passenger seat. “I'm not hungry.” 

Fair enough. 

Hux spent the ride home leaning against the window with his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose; he probably had a headache. Ben left the radio off and resolved to try to get him to eat _something_ when they got home. 

They rode in silence, Ben breaking it only a couple of times, well-meaning but useless attempts to make things better. 

“It wasn't for nothing, you know,” he began quietly. “There's so much you _can_ do that the doctors were iffy about...you should be proud, you came such a long way...it could have been so much worse…” he trailed off when he glanced over to see Hux's frown only deepening. 

Five minutes from home he tried again. “You could still - “ 

“Ben,” Hux cut him off, not harshly, his voice still that hollow tone from before, but leaving no room for argument. “Just...don't.” 

Ben swallowed and nodded, shifting in his seat. 

Waiting at the red light at the intersection to turn into their neighborhood, he slowly lowered one hand from the wheel and let it land at the edge of the seat by Hux's thigh. His fingers grazed the water bottle in the cup holder; if the offer was rejected he'd grab it like that was what he meant to do all along. 

But after a beat, Hux slipped his hand into Ben's and squeezed, _tight._ Ben nearly sobbed with relief. He remembered something Hux had said weeks ago, in pain and frustrated with his own perceived lack of progress. 

 _I hate this, not you._  

Ben stroked his thumb over the back of Hux's hand and didn't let go the rest of the way home. _This_ hurt, it was hard, but it had a shelf life. He believed in Hux and that would have to be enough until Hux could believe in himself again. They would figure it out, whatever it took.

 

*

 

Ben thumbed the call icon on his phone, once again hesitating. Back at the hospital, those two ex-soldiers who gave him their contact - they had to know it wasn’t just for the first uncertain days, hadn’t they? Now, he hoped they meant more: they must have known what Ben didn’t at the time, that recovery was a slow process - and not always a straightforward one. No: sometimes it meant two painstaking steps ahead and one helpless slide back. 

“Good afternoon - Chirrut? Yeah, hi. It’s me - yes, Ben. I wondered if you’d… yes, actually, tea sounds great.” 

And so he found himself sitting on a small flat cushion, folded knees awkwardly bumping the edge of the dainty low table, inside a fancy tea shop called _The Whills_. Opposite him, Chirrut sat completely at ease, serving tea with a series of flourishing, practiced movements and talking at the same time. 

“The transition is hard,” he said. “The hardest for him, obviously. But also for the others. It’s more than just a job, in a way it’s a definition of the person. Look at yourself - it’s been over thirty years since I was discharged and you still call me ex- _soldier_ in your mind - don’t tell me you’re not,” Chirrut laughed when Ben stammered a protest. “It’s fine.” 

“I just… wish I knew how to help him.” Ben said, studying the pattern of tea leaves at the bottom of his cup. “It’s just so subtle. Nothing that would have made anyone think - yeah, this man needs therapy, or adjustment counseling, or whatever.” 

The gentle smell of tea permeated the air as Ben was trying to find the best words to describe Hux’s state. “He was always reserved, had this self-control about him, not one to wear his emotions on his face like me… so I doubt anyone who doesn’t know him like I - or his brother - like we do, that they could tell the difference.” 

“And what is the difference,” Chirrut prompted gently after Ben remained staring at his cooling tea for too long. 

“It’s like there was… _less_ of him?” Ben put it like a question, aware how ridiculous it sounded, but Chirrut wasn’t offering any comments yet, waiting patiently for Ben to finish. So Ben did, words coming easier now. 

“He isn’t moody, or less affectionate with me, or anything. He was actually meaner back when he was still recovering physically - he’d be snappish and sometimes dismissive or downright prickly and defensive because I would get overprotective, but I knew that, and I could feel that underneath it all he still wanted me there. He’d be fighting - his limitations, the pain, sometimes even me - but that’s what was so _him_. The fighting, I mean.” 

“And now the fight’s gone,” Chirrut ventured, thoughtful. 

“Yeah. I don’t know how to describe it better. He’s doing fine - keeping his appointments, doing his share of work around the house, looking for a job, playing with the kids- but it’s like he’s just going through the motions sometimes. Or like it’s all just water slipping through his fingers and he’s… I don’t know. And he’s not getting mad at me any more - not that I am trying to make him, I’m not, it just used to be like me being messy and him being overworked and....” Ben chuckled miserably. “Who would’ve thought I’d miss him being mad at me.” 

Chirrut poured himself another cup and blew at it, pale eyes closed in thought. “It doesn’t have to mean he doesn’t care...” 

“I know he does,” Ben blurted out, taken aback that anyone could even think _that_ . “He cares. About me. And-” he bit back a _but_ \- “that’s different, too. When he holds me, without words, just so tight, it’s like - it’s like- damn I wish I was any good with words...” 

“He’s scared,” Chirrut told him. “And he draws strength from you.”   

Ben stared. _Scared?_ In all sixteen years together, he’d never truly seen Hux… 

Oh yes, he couldn’t have. That one time Hux was really, terribly scared - at least according to Techie - was the time Ben was trapped on the other side of the pond. And that time, Hux was scared for _Ben…_  

“I’m not planning to leave him!” Ben nearly shouted and then ducked his head, sheepish, when he realized his surroundings. Several patrons in the teashop rolled their eyes at him. 

“Not after so many years?” Chirrut asked, and there was something like a warning in his easy smile that almost never left his face. 

“You see, that’s a part of his fear. The _why_ you’ll stay. He doesn’t want pity. It’s a question of self-worth. He’s doubting himself now - he doesn’t know _what_ he is. Is he more than the sum of his past?” 

Understanding began to dawn on Ben. He leaned forward. 

“How can I convince him?” 

Chirrut’s face lit up with a genuine smile, this time. “About what?” 

Ben huffed. “I swear if you’re going to be all cryptic and let me answer my own questions-” 

“But you’re doing such a good job already,” Chirrut laughed. 

“Hmmm, no. I’ve hit the bottom here,” Ben admitted. “What did… if you don’t mind me asking, what did _you_ do?” 

“I wouldn’t have invited you for tea if I minded you asking,” Chirrut assured him. Then he sipped from his cup and thought a little. 

“It was different for us, back then. Baze had to finish his contract and it wasn’t like we could have lived together before then, for obvious reasons. But he was there, for me, with me, on his every day off. As for me, there was a lot of things I had to re-learn doing differently, or learn completely from the scratch. It kept me busy. And of course, there was Kaytoo.” 

“Who?” Ben perked up. 

“My service dog. Giant black lab. His pedigree name was actually K2 because the breeder was some climbing enthusiast, and God was it a fitting name. I mean, that death toll on that mountain. I swear Kaytoo was out for my sanity. He was perfectly trained - and an absolute menace. Of course, when Cassian came to us some time later, it was a love at first sight. I think that Kaytoo would have actually killed anyone who’d just look the wrong way at Cassian.” 

“He kept you occupied, I bet,” Ben thought aloud. “You had to feed him, walk him… pity we can’t afford a dog per the building rules,” he added, sighing. “Besides, I don’t think ‘Tidge is a dog person...” 

“Well,” Chirrut was back to his cryptic smile, “what kind of person could he be, then?”


	5. A little help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plans don't go they way they were intended to... until they do.

A click of the door closing jostled Hux out of his slumber and he winced, neck protesting against the position he’d fallen asleep earlier. He didn’t mean to doze off - it just happened sometimes, lately. He’d get tired with no real reason, much faster than before when he actually led a busy, often exhausting life. Techie dropped by for a visit earlier today, together with the twins. The Beebees have mastered the art of crawling on all four at astonishing speed and contrary to their shared interests, they often took off in completely opposite directions. Yes, that must have been it. The kids have tired him out.

He quickly smoothed down the front of his shirt, wrinkled from sleeping contorted at the table next to his lazily blinking laptop -  _ Inbox (0) _ \- and put on the kettle. The weather was getting really cold and bleary at this time of year and Ben would need warming up.

He could hear Ben coming up behind him - unusually silent, was he hoping for a sneak-kiss attack? - and Hux quickly rubbed at his eyes, trying to erase any evidence of sleep before he turned around and-

-came face to muzzle with a kitten.

_ What _ .

Hux stared at the wet, tousled, distinctly  _ smelling _ and obviously stray kitten Ben was holding up in both his palms like a winning prize, aware of Ben’s beaming face blurred in the background, and felt a rise of repulsion together with abject horror. He tried to push away the thought that these were the first emotions he truly  _ felt _ in weeks and refocused his stare to meet Ben’s big and starry-eyed gaze.  _ Oh fuck _ .

“Ben?” he said carefully.

A little shadow of doubt flickered in Ben’s eyes. This obviously wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. Well, Hux was tired of mustering up  _ reactions _ . 

“‘Tidge… I couldn’t let her just freeze to death outside,” Ben said plaintively.

“It’s hardly freezing out there,” Hux pointed out matter-of-factly. Rainy, chilly, yes. But cats were usually good at finding shelters, food, and generally taking care of themselves.

“But, look at her,” Ben pouted. Stroked one spiky ear with a tip of his finger. The kitten wriggled and made a tiny sneezy sound. “She reminded me of you.”

Hux folded his arms, unimpressed. “Because she’s...”  _ Unwanted? Abandoned? Kicked-out? _ “...ginger?” he said at last.

“Yeah!” Ben beamed again. “And cute! And stubborn - didn’t go without putting up a fight, look-” he balanced the kitten on one palm and pulled off the cuff of his sleeve to reveal four sharp red lines slashed across his wrist.

“Dear God, let me get you antiseptics for that,” Hux pushed past him, glad for a clearly defined course of action for now. “When was your last tetanus shot? I swear-”

“Baby, it’s just a little scratch,” Ben caught him in the bathroom doorway, the kitten still squished against his chest. “Besides, she might need a little bath now but she looks well-fed, and her coat is nice, like an indoor cat. I doubt she’s riddled with diseases or anything like that.”

Hux looked askance at the sopping wet ginger ball of misfortune, considering an idea.

“Is she micro-chipped?”

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Ben mumbled, growing defensive by the second. Actually putting his hand over the kitten as if to shield her from Hux’s ire. Hux ignored it.

“If she’s an indoor cat, someone’s going to miss her,” he concluded. “We can’t keep her, Ben.”

“But...”

“Someone’s going to miss her,” Hux repeated, gentler this time. Ben’s shoulders dropped.

“You’re probably right.... I’ll put out some flyers tomorrow.” He sounded far more defeated than just over the squashing of this silly kitten idea. Hux felt a faint stab of regret. Maybe he could have been more compassionate… but his heart slept too deeply these days, as if under some spell, and it wouldn’t get stirred so easily.

“We can take care of her until we find out who her owners are,” he offered.

“Yeah,” Ben nodded with a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes and fell too quickly, and Hux hated himself a little more, but he had to stand his ground. How could he be taking care of someone, be it even a little kitten, when he was already failing at taking care of himself? 

 

*

 

Hux woke up late the next day. The kitten had spent the better part of the night meowing in the hallway and scratching at the door, and if he didn’t like her before, now he borderline hated her.

He took longer than usual in the shower, too, trying to force the aching muscles in his back into some semblance of posture. Some days he would just wake all crumpled and sore, feeling like a broken cup that's been glued back together but not without flaws. His bones were mended but something else was still broken inside him, the shards sharp and catching on the edges, rubbing and gnashing against each other. Maybe they were right discharging him, he thought, when he needed long minutes just to straighten enough to stand at attention.

When he finally made it to the kitchen, he found Ben arranging a sleeping kitten on a bunch of towels. The cat was dead to the world - no wonder after that night of torment - and Ben was taking the advantage of this rare moment of her not zooming around the flat like a lightning bolt to snap the best possible photo of her.

“For the flyers,” he whispered, holding out his phone and fiddling with the settings to catch the bright morning light on that soft ginger fur. Then he tapped the photo icon.

The phone cracked loudly with the pre-recorded shutter sound and the kitten bolted, knocking Ben's mug off the table on her way down. Hux was actually impressed by the speed she went from adorable fluffy slumbering ball to a screeching ginger blur disappearing under the living room sofa. He was less impressed by the puddle of tea slowly spreading on the kitchen floor.

“I’ll clean that up!” Ben grabbed one of the towels and dived under the table before Hux could open his mouth. Hux sighed and went for the broom. 

When he got back, the spilled tea was hastily mopped away, leaving behind a brownish stain, and Ben was nowhere in the kitchen.

“I can't reach her from here!” came a shout from the living room. Hux peeked in. Ben was sprawled on the floor, head pressed into the carpet, trying to peer into the shadows in the narrow space under the sofa.

“She got in there, she'll get out,” Hux stated flatly. “Besides, she must be hungry by now. Unless she can live off my sanity.”

“Aw, come on, ‘Tidge. How can you not like her? She's exactly like you!”

“Breaking mugs?” Hux asked dryly. Ben grumbled something into the carpet and lifted himself up on his forearms, hmmpf-ing a little as he rose and straightened.

“Running off the frame as soon as you spot the camera,” he corrected Hux, grinning. “So, what do cats like?”

“How should I know?” Hux shrugged, handing Ben his phone. “Google it, I guess.”

Remembering something, he went back to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Of course. While Ben was busy rescuing little clawy beasts that didn’t need to be rescued, he completely forgot about the groceries. Which meant that the kitten would not be the only one hungry this morning.

Ben came up behind him, staring into his phone and rubbing his temple. “I think now I know how Maratelle feels about babysitting the twins,” he said unhappily. “This one site says they like tuna, and then there’s another saying that tuna could be poisonous for cats, and-”

“I have an interview at ten,” Hux interrupted him, checking his own phone and pocketing his wallet. “I’ll just grab something on my way there.”

“Oh, what-” Ben looked up. Finally it hit him that the blasted cat had cost them breakfast. He put his arms timidly around Hux and nuzzled his face between his shoulder blades in apology.

“I’m sorry we ruined your morning, ‘Tidge.”

Hux patted his hand and laughed a little. “I can take a bit of chaos.” He turned in Ben’s arms to plant a firm kiss on his mouth. “Just - try to get her home, where she belongs. And wish me luck.”

Even though luck might not be enough, Hux suspected. He was overqualified for most of the positions available, and the overall emphasis on the “young and dynamic” wasn’t in favour of a decorated ex-soldier in his forties. 

 

*

 

Ben crouched again in front of the sofa - it seemed it’s become the kitten’s go-to-hide spot - and snuck in an open palm on which sat a treat. Specifically designed for cats. He bought two bags of them, this kitten was so small and it would need a lot of training and positive encouragement.

“Kitty, kitty!” A tiny but decisive hiss from the shadows but nothing else. Damn, how did people name their cats?

“Ginny? Tiggy? Angie?”

Ben couldn’t see the kitten but he was certain he could feel her glare. Really, it was almost funny how much like Hux she was. Ah, that was an idea…

“Sassy?”

More hissing and telepathically communicated animosity. The treat was starting to become slimy with the sweat of his palm.

“Lucky? Sophie? Minnie?”

Something shifted under the sofa and Ben felt a brush of a wet muzzle against the tips of his fingers. Slowly, very slowly, he started to pull his hand out. Gradually, the kitten followed.

“So you’re Minnie, aren’t you?” he stroked her back. The kitten looked at him doubtfully but accepted both the treat and the gentle scratches along her ears.

“We fucked up, Minnie,” Ben confined in her, curled as he was on the living room carpet, the kitten winding around his offered hand. “I really thought he’d be a cat person...”

Talking aloud about his fears always helped him. But now, trying to talk to Hux seemed only making things worse. Hux didn’t want to talk about job interviews going the  _ we’ll let you know  _ route, or about the aches the cold weather had brought towards the end of the year.

Before Hux, Ben would just ignore things left unsaid and let them stack until the pile toppled and he’d crash and break something. Fear, doubt, insecurity, dejection - everything he’d struggled with in his younger years - all that would turn into anger if left unchecked for long enough, and anger was easier to let out. But he spent years learning how to not be that person anymore. Hux had been there, for over sixteen years now - a small eternity. In just a few years, Ben would have lived longer with Hux than without him. It felt like the best accomplishment of his life.

“I know, I should have asked him if he wanted a cat...” Ben mused aloud. Minnie was now sneaking between his feet, rubbing her sides against the rough material of his jeans. It felt natural, talking to her now when she was affectionate and ginger and…

“Hey, Minnie, you’ll end up being  _ my _ therapy cat, you know?” Ben startled and then laughed when the cat only meowed in agreement. But the laughter left him quickly - he could hear footsteps coming up the stairs to their flat, heavy and just slightly uneven, like on the days Hux was in pain, either physical or emotional.

“I feel like I’m failing him,” he whispered quickly to the cat, trying to will understanding into her bright, green eyes. “Help me, Minnie. You’re my only hope.”

 

*

 

Hux’s first thought when he spotted the pile of bags and carton boxes on the kitchen table was to check the fridge. Lucky for Ben, it was full to the brim. Satisfied, he turned his gaze back to the kitchen table and let the reality sink in.

The reality in which they apparently needed several cartons and tins of cat food, a cat bed, an enormous bag of litter and some unidentifiable items that were probably toys.

“Ben, love, what part of  _ we can’t keep that cat _ did you not understand?”

Ben hurried into the kitchen and started putting the things away. Hux watched as he unpacked the cat bed next to the sofa and then he yelped when  _ something _ \- oh, it was the cat - brushed against his ankle.

“I put up the flyers this afternoon,” Ben defended himself. “But it could take days before someone notices them, and I thought if she had her own things, she wouldn’t need to claw up your pillow...” his eyes widened when he realized he’d said more than he should.

Hux couldn’t help it - he started to laugh. His life has turned into bad comedy.

“You realize I’d have noticed I had a new pillow - tonight, at the latest?” he wheezed out in between hiccups. By now he was only laughing so he wouldn’t start crying, even though the situation wasn’t anything to cry over. But his emotional responses were all over the place lately and despite the overall numbness he felt, tears were always deceptively close to the surface.

“Minnie didn’t mean to - she needs to scratch, look, I bought her-”

“ _ Minnie?  _ You already named her? You shouldn’t do that, you’ll only get attached.”

Ben put the brand new scratching board next to the bed and got up, wiping his hands on his thighs, an endearingly nervous gesture. “It seems to be her name,” he said. “Besides, we can’t just call her  _ that cat _ all the time.”

Hux shook his head - this was a battle lost, he knew it, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight. “Just watch me,” he quipped and went to access the damage to the bedroom. 

 

*

 

And so it went for days. Nobody was responding to the flyers Ben put out, and yet Hux resolutely and loudly declined any involvement in taking care of  _ that cat _ . Ben changed the litter, brought her catnip, spoiled her with treats, and watched Minnie slowly mapping the landscape that was Hux’s tolerance.

Despite the fact that Ben was the one feeding her, Minnie, true to the feline reputation, chose Hux as her unwilling favorite, and spent her days slowly chipping away at the ice around her ginger counterpart. More often than not, Ben caught Hux sneaking amused glances at her while she chased some toy around the room or just lounged away on her favorite places (never on the cat bed, though!) and after the third week, him, Rey and Techie had a betting pool going as to when would Hux finally admit that fine, he didn’t _ hate  _ that cat.

Fourth week in, on an early Thursday morning, Ben’s phone rang with the Indiana Jones theme. It was Techie’s idea of a joke to set it up as a ringtone for Han and Ben didn’t know how to reset it.

“Dad?.... Yeah? Oh shit...”

Hux looked up from his tablet. There were various levels to the way Ben could say  _ shit _ on a phone. This definitely wasn’t  _ Someone is dying- _ shit but at the same time it sounded heavier than  _ Mom burned another batch of cookies- _ shit _. _

Listening to whatever his father was saying on the other end, only interjecting with the occasional affirmative sound, Ben threw a glance at Hux. It wasn’t afraid -  _ nothing with Rey or the kids, then _ , Hux breathed out, the squeezing in his chest receding - but it was… nervous? Indecisive?

“Listen, Dad, I’m not exactly… I know. Maybe you’re right.” Something louder cracked in the phone and Ben chuckled in response. “Yeah, print it out and frame it, never mind it’s a spoken conversation, Dad. Fine, hang on in there, it’ll be alright.”

Ben set aside the phone and ran a hand through his hair, meeting Hux’s quizzical gaze.

“Dad got bitten by another of his ‘Can’t stand too long in one place, the call of the wild bullshit’ moods and decided that a road trip to somewhere warmer would do him good. And he took the Falcon, for old times’ sake.”

“What? That clunker was ancient when we met!”

“Yup. He got as far as to North Carolina before it flopped for good. He’s too proud to call Mom and Rey can’t leave the twins for that long… I know, I should’ve just told him to get on the coach-”

“Ben. Of course you get him.” Hux saw where this was going and was determined to revert it before Ben could guilt-trip himself into feeling bad no matter if he went or stayed.

“He made it nine hours along the interstate-”

“Impressive. I would’ve given the Falcon nine minutes. It’s no problem - get him, spend the night in a motel somewhere and drive back the next morning.” 

Ben as fiddling with his phone again. “I’d have to cancel a class tonight at the studio...”

“Didn’t you tell me yesterday that seven people out of ten called in sick anyway?” The flu season was reaching its peak. Hux could see why Han wanted to get somewhere warmer.

“Fine, fine!” Ben chuckled again. “Just - watch out that Minnie doesn’t sneak off when you go out. And she shouldn’t be getting more than two those jerky pieces a day no matter how cute she’s when begging. I changed the litter yesterday so that’s fine for a while, and–”

If Ben was nervous before, now he was downright fretting. Hux stopped his pacing with taking his face in both hands and pulling him into a firm kiss.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Go get the car.” 

 

*

 

Twenty minutes later, Ben was finally gone, with a bag of overnight clothes and a thermos full of black coffee, and Hux relaxed. It wasn’t as if he really wanted Ben away… but the truth was that he was getting a little antsy lately, with the season, with Ben spending more time at home due to people cancelling their classes, with his own unemployment… Maybe this short overnight absence would be exactly what they needed to get out of each other’s hair and to really appreciate when they got together again.

He spent the day alternately typing away on his laptop and cleaning around the flat when his back would start protesting against sitting for too long. This was something he, too, was partly grateful to have Ben away for a few hours: a couple of days ago he started to write down ideas for a story and by some ridiculous sense of self-consciousness he didn’t want anyone to see it before he could be sure it would even lead somewhere.

He filled the cat’s bowl with her favorite food that evening but for some reason - probably stunned pride - the cat remained hidden, moving around the flat unseen, just a flash of ginger disappearing round a door frame when Hux went looking for her. The better, Hux thought, he shouldn’t be taking care of her in the first place. But her original owners weren’t calling, and Hux felt bad for agreeing to keep her until they would show up. The longer she stayed, the more it would hurt Ben when she inevitable had to go...

He worked well into the night, fleshing out the world of his story with details. Ben called him at midnight - apparently it took him some time to locate Han because the old man used his innate sixth sense to sniff out a gambling den in whatever hole of a town he was and tried to win some money - with the now useless Falcon thrown into the lot.

_ “We're in a motel now, and Dad's a mourning drunk,”  _ Ben said.  _ “Love you, pumpkin.” _

“Love you too,” Hux said and rolled to his other side on the too cold bed. 

 

*

 

The next day, Hux was at his desk taking advantage of the quiet to work a bit more on his story before Ben returned late that afternoon. Minnie busied herself batting something around the kitchen floor, out of his way for now.

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he startled when his phone went off beside him. Probably Ben checking in. One hand still hovering over the keyboard, he picked it up and answered without as much as a glance at the screen.

“Hello?”

“ _ Hello, Armitage. _ ”

At the sound of his father's voice Hux's stomach dropped so fast he almost felt sick. He was overtaken by an old, familiar anxiousness, cultivated over the years spent with his father and never quite gone in spite of all the years away from him.

He considered hanging up. It was what Ben would have told him to do. But Ben wasn't here, and curiosity got the best of Hux.

“Father. What do I owe the pleasure?” He didn't bother to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“ _ Cut it, boy _ ,” his father snapped, and Hux bristled at being called  _ boy _ at forty years of age.

“ _ I am not any more inclined to have this conversation than you. But I guess a man must put aside his principles where family is concerned. I have spoken to some of my old friends in Washington and they would be willing to give you a chance. _ ”

Hux sat back from his laptop, scowling at the suggestion. A chance? He didn’t need favors being handed down by stuffy conservatives who would expect him to lick their boots afterwards. Whatever he accomplished in life, he owed solely to himself and his own hard work.

“Chance for what? To get in politics? What on Earth makes you think I would want to go there?”

“ _ Well, the ways for you to restore the prestige of Hux family have thinned after you got yourself kicked out of the Army. _ " Brendol’s tone was laced with derision.

The words stung; Hux gripped the arm of his chair with his free hand to keep from digging his nails into his palms. Rage quickly replaced the hurt, along with a voice at the back of his mind, not just any voice,  _ Ben's,  _ calling him a hero.

He sat up a little straighter and clutched the phone a little tighter. The rage finally brought forth a realization, clear like glowing iron pulled from the fire: he made the right decision, what he did was something to be proud of, and he survived not to wallow and rot in grief, but to make the best of this fresh start. It hit him that all the dejected thoughts of the past weeks buzzing around his head had his father’s distinct voice, and he wouldn’t let his father put him down any second longer.

“I was discharged after saving another man's life, not after warming the chair under my ass for long enough years like you,” he bit out. “And you don't care about family, you only care about your own reputation. If you cared about family for one second, you would try to get to know your own grandchildren.”

_ “I am not talking about my other disappointments, I am talking a-” _

“Oh, shut up!” Hux interrupted. It sent a thrill through him; he'd never told his father to shut up though he'd wanted to on countless occasions. To his surprise, Brendol did, probably shocked into silence. And Hux careened on.

“You never thought Techie deserved your attention but the truth is that you never deserved him! You’re a hidebound, vicious, self-important  _ relic _ and if you care about not dying alone, you should start working on mending your relationship with the only son who still gives a fuck about you!”

Hux ended the call before Brendol could retaliate and threw it aside, sending it skidding across the floor. He slammed the laptop shut and propped his elbows on the desk with his head on his hands. He was shaking and his skin prickled; he could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders tensing and tried to focus on relaxing them, breathe in, count to three, breathe out.

Never in his life had he spoken to his father that way. But now, after everything he'd been through, after an accident that could have  _ killed him _ , he couldn't bring himself to care. If he never saw that old bastard in his life, he wouldn’t regret it.

A part of him hoped Brendol never followed through on Hux's suggestion to reconnect with Techie. He would have him rather stay the hell away from Techie and Rey and their family. Brendol’s pathologic devotion to the Army had poisoned every feeling he could have towards Techie who was never fit enough to even consider enrolling. It wasn’t likely the old man would change. But Hux knew that deep down, Techie still hoped.

Hux let out a shaky sigh. He felt raw and wrung out. Of all the days for Ben to be away, it had to be this one. He could have used a laugh at one of Ben's creative insults for Brendol, or the weight of Ben’s arm around his shoulders as he patiently listened to Hux’s venting.

Suddenly the quiet of their flat felt less peaceful and more heavy and looming. He couldn't call Ben, Ben would be busy driving and probably scolding Han. Rey would be busy with the twins, Techie at the institute. Leia might be free, but she'd offer to come over and he'd just feel like a burden. Didn’t he wish for a little alone time only yesterday? How ironic...

_ Mewwww. _

He hadn't even heard Minnie walk over and suddenly she was sitting by his feet, staring up at him.

“What do you want?” he mumbled. “I fed you…”

She propped herself up on her hind legs and put her front paws on the edge of the chair.

“What are you....” Hux lowered his hands and sat back in the chair.  The moment she saw an opening, she leapt into his lap.

It was so unexpected that Hux didn't even think to shoo her off right away. He watched her turn in a circle, sniff at his glass of water, rub her cheek against the edge of the table. She turned again, and then began kneading at his thigh, her tiny claws prickling at his leg even through his pants, though not enough to really hurt.

Finally satisfied with her spot, she curled up on his lap and closed her eyes.

Hux felt frozen in place. She liked to follow him around, scare his very soul out of him by unexpectedly rubbing up against his leg, carry out some personal vendetta on his things...but she'd never done  _ this _ before.

Any other day he would stand up to dislodge her, or call Ben to deal with her. She wasn’t a  _ pet _ , she was only living off their temporary samaritanism. He definitely  _ wouldn't  _ reach down and settle his hand on her head or, once he felt how soft her fur was, continue running his hand down her back…

Immediately she began to purr. Hux petted her again, and again. Slowly his racing heart settled and his hands stopped shaking. He looked, actually  _ looked _ for the first time, at her face up close, at the pattern of her fur and the little pads of her paws. He let one hand rest on her side and felt the gentle rumble of her purring.

He glanced at his laptop. After what had happened he didn't feel much like writing anymore, not to mention his back starting to protest sitting in the desk chair for so long. All the cleaning was done yesterday and it was too early to start dinner. The couch was looking more and more appealing.

But Minnie looked so comfortable…

Hux chewed his lip a little and then made up his mind. He slipped his hands carefully under her, lifted her up - she was so  _ light, _ should they be feeding her more? - and held her against his chest. It was almost like holding a baby, and he had enough practice with that.

“Alright, you,” he said quietly as he stood, “don't scratch me or something. We're just getting a change of scenery.”

Minnie didn't struggle. In fact, she seemed quite content, like she belonged there, cradled in Hux's arms.

He laid down on the couch and got comfortable, his hands still holding her in place. Once he was settled, Minnie curled up on his chest and he began stroking her fur again.

“Oh, and Minnie?” he said as his eyes began to drift shut. “Don't tell Ben.”


	6. Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to look up.

Ben yawned as he felt around his pockets for his key. It was going to be a turn-in-early kind of night, he could already tell. After a long night spent on a shoddy motel bed listening to his dad snore on the other side of the room, and an even longer day driving home with him, all he wanted was to curl up with his husband on their comfortable bed and eat something that wasn't rest-stop food. 

It hadn't been so bad, really. The break had cleared his mind after several weeks of cold and gray and worrying about Hux, and spending the time with his father was nice. But being home was nicer. 

He opened the door and immediately grinned. The place was spotless, as it tended to become whenever he left. He made sure to put his shoes in their spot and hang his keys on the hook. 

“Hey ‘Tidge, I'm...home…” 

As he turned into the room he stopped in his track, astonished by the sight that awaited him. 

There on the couch Hux was fast asleep, looking more relaxed than he had in ages. And curled up on his chest was Minnie, sleeping just as soundly. He had one hand settled on her as though...as though he'd been petting her… 

“Am I dreaming?” Ben whispered to himself. He half expected to wake up back in a motel in North Carolina. 

But no, it was real. He set his bag down, wincing at the _thunk_ , but luckily the two didn't stir. He fumbled around for his phone and crept over, leaned forward - remembering at the last moment to mute the shutter sound - and took a photo. 

He was going to keep this forever. He was going to _frame it_ , even if Hux argued. He wanted to look at it forever...the two of them so peaceful, finally getting along… 

His heart sank a little when he remembered that they couldn't keep Minnie. Just because Hux had come to a truce with her didn't change that. 

Oh, well. He'd just have to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Ben crouched by the sofa and took a closer look at Hux's sleeping face. It seemed a shame to wake him, but he'd be mad at himself if he slept the whole day away, and he'd probably want dinner soon. 

With one hand he gave the top of Minnie’s head a little scritch. She stirred and yawned but only turned over and continued napping. Ben chuckled; she really was so much like Hux. 

With the other hand he began stroking Hux's hair back from his face. “Tidge...time to wake up, beautiful…” 

“Mmmm." Hux's eyes opened and he blinked sleepily. “Ben? What time ‘sit?” 

“Almost six.” 

“That can't be right.” He closed his eyes again. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben noticed his hand had started stroking Minnie’s fur again. He didn't seem to notice he was doing it. “It was only just two…” 

Ben chuckled and dipped in to pepper his face with kisses. Hux made a little noise of protest that was completely undermined by the way he tipped his face up into the affection. 

“I missed my two favorite gingers,” Ben said fondly. 

“ _Two?”_ Even half-asleep Hux still managed to sound indignant. “Who else is - “ 

Hux's eyes popped open again, still a little groggy. His hands felt around and, upon discovering Minnie, he looked down. 

“How...when...oh. That's right.” He gave Ben his weakest glare ever, daring him to tease him for this. 

For once, Ben held his tongue. He'd finally gotten what he wanted all month, he wasn't about to ruin it by running his mouth. Instead he cupped the back of Hux's head and kissed him. 

“You two wake up, I'll get dinner started,” was all he said when he pulled away. 

As he entered the kitchen, he glanced back just in time to see Hux sit up and stretch. Minnie had moved to the cushion beside him and was stretching and yawning too. Ben had to bite his lip and hurry into the kitchen to keep from laughing at how much alike they looked just then. 

The joy of the moment was abruptly cut short by a sharp knock on the door. Ben nearly dropped the can of condensed milk he’d been getting out of the fridge. He hurried through the hallway, spurred by the sound of unrelenting rapping at the wood, impatient enough to drill a hole in their door if Ben didn’t answer quickly enough. There was only one person who always knocked - their very short landlady who couldn’t reach the doorbell. 

“Ms. Kanata? Is there a problem?” 

“Hello, Ben, and unfortunately, yes. I am sorry but I must insist you move your car, I can’t get out- oh my god, Millicent!” 

Ben stared at her, uncomprehending, before it clicked. His heart, so light and happy just moments before, took a dive through three floors to settle in the basement. He slowly turned to follow the landlady’s gaze peering past him and down the hallway where Hux stood, equally frozen, with Minnie in his arms. The kitten’s ears perked up at the exclamation and she immediately wiggled out of Hux’s hold, dashing between Ben’s feet to wind and rub herself against Ms. Kanata’s calves. 

“Oh Millie! So this is where you’ve been all the time, you little scoundrel? Look how big you’ve become!” 

Ms. Kanata scooped her up. “Oh, you certainly haven’t been staying away from treats!” She made to look up to Ben but halfway there her gaze got caught at the can of condensed milk Ben was still holding. “Oh my, young man, tell me you haven’t been feeding her this regularly!” 

Distantly, Ben noticed Hux coming up to him, grasping his hand and linking their fingers together. Hux’s hand shook slightly - or was it his own? Ben couldn’t tell. He wasn’t sure what to say at all. 

“So, Millie, is it?” Hux cleared his throat. “She’s been with us a little over a month. We didn’t know she was yours...” He was nothing but amiable but Ben could hear the strain in his voice, and his heart broke a little more. He knew, rationally, that Minnie - no, Millie’s owner would be found eventually, but today of all days… 

“I found her outside in the rain,” Ben said. His voice sounded hollow to his ears. 

“I always knew you had a good heart, Ben,” Ms. Kanata said approvingly. “I looked for her when she got lost,” she sighed and then grinned, “little did I know she was right under my nose the whole time!” 

“But, Ms. Kanata, I’ve put out flyers with her photo as soon as I found her,” Ben ventured. 

“Flyers? Where?” Ms. Kanata turned her face up to peer at Ben through the thick lenses of her glasses, face scrunched in a frown. “Haven’t seen any.” 

“One is still on the lamp post right in front of the building...” Hux started helpfully and then trailed off when the realization dawned on him. He took in their landlady’s figure - she was barely 4’11’’ - her short-sightedness, and then Ben’s towering height… 

“Ben. You put up the flyers in about your eye level, didn’t you.” 

“Oh my!” Ms. Kanata started laughing. Millie took no pleasure in the commotion and sneaked out of her arms again, walking over to Hux and winding herself around his legs. Hux suppressed a sigh and schooled his face into a pleasant smile. 

“Well, Millie...” _It’s time to go home,_ he wanted to say but the words wouldn’t get out. _This_ was her home. Millie looked up to him with that feline detached curiosity, as if she didn’t know what Hux was talking about and wasn’t sure if it interested her anyway. 

He could hear Ben next to him taking a deep breath. He was about to beg her to leave Millicent with them, Hux realized, and he couldn’t let him do that, no, it wasn’t right, no matter what his heart was longing for. He spoke up before Ben could get those traitorous words out. 

“Ms. Kanata… could we keep her?” 

For the first time in his life, Hux snapped his mouth shut, genuinely baffled at what has just escaped it. From Ben’s wide-eyed stare on him, Hux wasn’t the only one surprised. 

Ms. Kanata looked at him with the same uncomprehending gaze as Millicent a moment before. “Could?” she repeated. “My dear boys, you definitely should! Why, I have enough on my mind with my two old cats. Placing all the young ones was a nightmare, let me tell you! I was determined to find a suitable home for each kitten and it seems that Millie found one just by herself!” 

During that little speech, Millicent sauntered back into the flat as if she owned the place. Which she, as suddenly occurred to Hux, almost literally did. Beside him, Ben was grinning uncontrollably. Hux mentally assessed the hole in which he just dug himself and found he couldn't regret it. 

“With that matter solved,” Maz rounded on Ben again, all business again, “I would really like you to move that car…” 

“Of course,” Ben remembered himself, handed Hux the milk and grabbed the car keys. “I am really sorry, I just came back from a two day drive and wasn't looking how much space I’ve left…” 

Their voices trailed off down the stairs and Hux closed the door, briefly resting his forehead against it. So. He'd really done that. 

A panicked yelp and a clatter from the kitchen made him nearly jump. Oh right. Ben probably forgot to close the fridge, and Millicent saw the promised land. Hux shook his head at his own smiling face in the hallway mirror and went to deal with the mess.  

 

*

 

“That’s...” Techie pointed at Hux’s jacket and gasped, “that’s _ginger cat’s hair!_ ” He clutched at his heart in a dramatic show of astonishment. 

On the other side of the huge sofa in Techie and Rey’s living room, Hux reclined with an air of smug nonchalance. “It’s ghastly isn’t it? It really gets everywhere.” 

“No it doesn’t!” Techie grinned, eyes alight. “You must have _cuddled_ her at some point, admit it!” 

“Nope, he didn’t...” Ben said, completely earnest, leaning down from where he sat balanced on the backrest of the sofa to pick up the offending evidence from Hux’s jacket and biting his lip to keep from laughing at the crestfallen look on Techie’s face. 

“He didn’t _do only that_ ,” he clarified, earning himself a swat by the ear. “He - cuddled her - the whole afternoon - asleep on the sofa - ” Ben continued, laughing, between persistent thumping of a cushion Hux was bestowing on his head. 

“Traitor,” Hux grumbled with the last hit. 

“I would appreciate if you didn’t use the furniture as a weapon,” Rey put in mildly. “You’re giving the Beebes ideas.” 

True enough, from their playing blanket, twin pairs of big, round, innocent eyes watched the scene avidly, all squeaky toys momentarily forgotten. 

“All right,” Hux conceded, “I believe the cat is literally out of the bag now. And yes, the cat is staying. We found out her true name, by the way. It’s Millie, not Minnie.” 

“But I was as close as you can get without the cat actually telling me herself,” it was Ben’s turn to grumble. 

“And she's fine with you staying a few hours away from home?” asked Techie, pulling out his phone and scrolling down to check on something. Ever since coming to work on the Institute in Philadelphia, Techie’s diary and mailbox was almost always overflowing. Hux made sure to keep any envy he felt off his face. 

“Yeah, since we cat-proofed the flat a bit, she's fine,” Ben answered for him. 

“That's good,” Techie nodded a little absent-mindedly before he apparently found what he was looking for and his face lit up again. “Ah! Because I'd like you to consider this,” and he handed his phone to Hux, a page with the Institute header glowing on the screen. 

 _This_ , as Techie called it, was an opening for a senior researcher position within the newly established energy harvesting devices department at the Institute where Techie was working for several years now as a nanotechnology expert. 

“I don't think they'd want a military researcher,” Hux said quietly after a moment of silent perusal of the job requirements. 

“Science is science,” Techie objected. “And you check all the boxes. You would of course have to go to through the interview before the Scientific Board. But you've been doing research in solar powered cells since I was, like, eight. They won't find a better candidate.” 

Hux looked at Ben, who beamed encouragingly back. There was one problem, a big one. 

The Institute where Techie worked, by which he and Rey lived, was in Philadelphia. Over two hours ride from where Ben and Hux lived and where Ben worked at the studio. Not something Hux wanted to endure every day, twice, with the speed in which his back could cramp from prolonged sitting in one position. 

Ben probably didn't realize it yet. He looked excited on Hux's account, far more than Hux himself was feeling. But this - the logistics, the possibility of moving, of uprooting their entire life - wasn't something to be discussed over Rey's poppy seed cake, excited baby babble on stereo and rubber duck squeaking. This would need the quiet of their own home. 

“Well, guess one more interview won't hurt,” Hux said noncommittally and used Techie’s mail to send the recruitment link to his own address.

 

*

 

“Don't,” Ben gently but resolutely snatched Hux's hand away from the touchpad, the cursor hovering over the Delete button. Hux was so caught up in the endless cycle of his thoughts he didn't even hear him coming out of the shower. 

“You know it's the right job for you. It's what you worked towards your whole life, and this time there won't be any asshole director cutting off your finances. Send them your CV.” 

Hux turned his hand in Ben's grasp so that their fingers intertwined. “Ben… love, it's not that easy.” 

“You're worried about the distance?” Ben hit the nail on the head as if Hux hadn't spent all afternoon agonizing over how to broach the topic with him. 

“It's too far,” Hux admitted. 

Ben just shook his head, unexpectedly cool about it. “I looked at their website earlier. Did you know they offer accommodation for people coming from outside the area? And that the core facility is running only four working days a week? I could drive you there every Monday and pick you up every Thursday and sometimes come over to sneak into your apartment for the night if I had a day off-” 

Hux had to stop it before it gathered too much steam. Ben could get excited so easily and sometimes his enthusiasm caused him a kind of a tunnel vision, making him blind to the broader picture. 

“You would really be fine with me living half a week elsewhere?” 

Ben folded himself to his knees next to Hux's chair and laid his head on Hux's thighs with a soft sigh. Immediately, Hux carded his fingers through his hair. It was so long now that Ben needed to pull it up into a bun when he danced. Ben hummed and blinked up on Hux, soft around the eyes. 

“I would have been okay - not fine, but okay,” he chuckled, “with you being elsewhere for eighteen bloody months. Baby, Philly is not Djibouti or Iraq or wherever they would be sending you if you still were in the Army. Four days a week isn't really more than you actually used to pull off sometimes - yeah, don't give me that look, and don't think I've forgotten the way you would pull three all-nighters in a row during the evaluation period and then come home to pass out at the kitchen table.” 

Hux snorted and tugged a little on Ben’s hair in retaliation. Ben only hummed, his contended grin spreading. Hux forgot that this particular tactic had long ago lost any corrective effect. 

“And then there are the KOR’s competitions and late night shows and tours...” Ben continued. “We’ve always been busy, ‘Tidge.” 

Millie jumped on the desk, examined the enticingly warm and quietly whirring laptop, gave a cursory glare to Ben's head on her favorite human’s lap and then nudged it with her paw in a clear gesture: move, it's my turn for scritches now. 

Yes, Hux mused with both hands busy with the competitors for his affection, there had rarely been a whole week with both of them at home every night and every morning. It had changed for a while after Hux’s injury, with Ben staying home to take care of him, but recently it was getting back to normal. Perhaps the frequent absences were the reason why they still enjoyed each other so much. Sixteen years together, ten of it married, and yet Hux’s breath hitched every time Ben would wrap his arms around him, press him against that strong, wonderfully broad body, sneak a hand inside his jeans back pocket and squeeze. It was perhaps the same reason why Ben, even after sixteen years, still kept trying to seduce Hux at every turn. 

“What about Millie,” he said at last. 

“We’ll cross the bridge when we get to it,” Ben hummed and reluctantly got up, groaning and wincing as he stretched to his full height. Hux thought he could hear a faint _pop_ coming from somewhere around Ben’s knees. 

“Send them your CV and come to bed.”

 

*

 

“Hey, babe, have you seen my wallet?” Ben called to Hux from the living room.

“It _was_ on the coffee table,” Hux answered from the bathroom. “Millie probably knocked it over. Check underneath.” He said it distractedly, but with none of the frustration he’d once had for the cat.

Sure enough, when Ben leaned down and looked, his wallet was on the floor. He scooped it up and went to set it in the bedroom instead.

“What are you doing in there, anyway?” He asked as he passed the bathroom, curiosity getting the better of him. When Hux didn’t answer right away he stopped and poked his head in.

Hux was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, chin tilted up a little as he considered his beard.

It had grown in thick and soft, a shade of red slightly darker than his hair. Ben _loved_ it. It almost surprised him how much; in all their years together, Hux had never had more facial hair than a bit of overgrown stubble if they took a few days off together. He maintained his appearance with the same diligence he had for everything else.

But in his long weeks of recovery and then his release from the military, shaving just wasn’t the top priority. Ben thought Hux would hate the beard, would see it as another thing he’d lost control of in his life. But for whatever reason, Hux had embraced it, and kept it meticulously trimmed and combed.

This time though, he had neither the comb nor the scissors, and sitting at the edge of the sink was a bottle of shaving cream.

Ben stepped into the room behind him, more alarmed than was probably necessary.

“You’re getting rid of it?”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “I thought it might look more professional for the Scientific Board tomorrow.”

“You’ve gone to interviews with it.”

“Yes, and we saw how those went.” Hux said it so casually, as though each rejection hadn’t felt like another nail in a coffin. Ben stepped closer, settled a hand on Hux’s hip and looked at their reflections. 

“I've got a good feeling about this one,” he said. 

Hux smirked. “You're starting to sound like your mother.” He laughed suddenly when Ben tickled his side in retaliation. Ben caught his waist before he could pull away and rubbed his hand up and down, soothing. 

“So, what, is the beard bad luck or something?”

“I wouldn’t say _that_ . First off, luck has nothing to do with it. And second, I felt _very_ lucky over the sounds you made the last time I had my face between your legs…” To emphasize his point, Hux tilted his head up to nuzzle against Ben’s cheek, drawing a pleased little hum from him.

“I think I was the lucky one that night,” Ben breathed, pressing his cheek to Hux’s and enjoying the slight prickling heat as his blood rushed to the surface of his skin.

Hux smiled and turned his gaze back to the mirror. “I haven’t minded it as much as I thought I would,” he said. “But. I thought it would feel nice to be rid of it. A fresh start?”

His eyes found Ben’s in the mirror and Ben nodded with understanding. Something had changed in Hux’s demeanor over the past few days, subtle but so important. He stopped looking like he’d been given a death sentence. He was beginning to move with purpose again, like his actions had meaning, like they weren’t just automated. He began to seem almost _hopeful_ , and Ben tentatively allowed hope to settle in his own heart.

“Then go for it.” Ben smiled. “I’ll miss it, but I did also miss kissing those smooth cheeks…” He dipped in to nuzzle his nose against the beard one last time and Hux chuckled.

“Maybe one day it’ll make a comeback,” Hux reassured him, ruffling his hair. 

He opened the mirror to the cabinet behind it to take out his shaving kit. His eyes landed on the half-empty bottle of bubble bath on the shelf above it. It had been part of a gift set Ben got on their last anniversary, full of nice-smelling things for pampering yourself or your spouse. But it had been months since they last used it. First Hux wasn’t able to, and then he seemed to grow used to just showers.

Ben caught the considering glance Hux gave to the tub. “You know,” he said, “It would go smoother if your face was properly warmed up.. You could take a bath if you want.” And then he got an idea and he poked out of the bathroom for a moment to glance at the time. He had a little over two hours before he had to be anywhere. More than enough time…

“And _if_ you’re worried about getting up,” he continued smoothly, but he knew already that his face looked too eager, as were his next words, “I could get in with you.”

Hux raised _both_ eyebrows. His mouth twitched as he fought not to grin. “You would do that for me?” He teased. “How _selfless_ of you, no ulterior motives whatsoever…”

Ben beamed. “Is that a yes?”

Hux considered playing hard-to-get a moment longer, but the allure of a warm soak _and_ Ben enjoying it with him was too strong.

“That sounds wonderful,” he admitted. He grabbed the bottle and closed the cabinet.

Ben bit his lip, still smiling, but he looked as if he wanted to ask for more. Hux shook his head, knowing he’d almost certainly give in. “What is it?”

“I could also – could I – “ Ben’s confidence slipped a little. He reached a hand out to brush his fingers over Hux’s beard. “Could I do it for you?”

“Shave me?”

Ben nodded eagerly. Then a slightly panicked look crossed his face. “Not because you _need_ me to or anything. Just, you know, to spoil you a little?” He looked so _hopeful_. He probably saw it in some romance movie, Hux realized and fought to hold back a grin. “I’m not bad at it, actually. Been a while since I used a straight razor, but I used to all the time when I was told that my five o’clock shadow didn’t look good for performances.”

Hux recalled Ben when they’d met, baby-faced and nervous, who carried eyeliner in his pocket, the smoothness of his cheek the first time Hux had cupped it when they kissed.

“Alright,” he conceded and Ben looked like he’d just won the lottery. “Will you get things ready? I’m going to see if I have any messages. In case this takes a while.” He gave Ben a sly look and patted his arm as he walked out of the bathroom.

A quick check of his phone turned into a short text conversation with Techie. When Hux returned to the bathroom, the tub was full and covered in a layer of bubbles, and there was a sweet smell in the air. Ben’s arms were tangled in the shirt he was pulling off over his head. Hux leaned in the doorway to appreciate the view of that marvellous body.

Of course, Ben caught him. “Are you going to go in like that?” He teased, tossing his balled up shirt at Hux, who caught it and tossed it just as quickly into the hamper.

“I suddenly forgot all about bathing…”

“No, _no!”_ Ben was already reaching for him and Hux hadn’t even moved yet. Hux grinned and began stripping. Then he quickly checked the water; it was perfect.

Ben got in first. He barely fit, having to bend his knees to keep his feet from sticking out the end, his broad shoulders taking up nearly the entire width. When he was ready, he held out his hands for Hux to hold onto as he climbed in and sat down between Ben’s legs. The moment his body slipped under the warm water he sighed and closed his eyes. _Yes_. This was what he’d been longing for all those long, stressful weeks.

Immediately, Ben’s arms slid around his waist and drew him back against his chest, Hux’s leaner frame fitting so perfectly against his husband’s broader one, his skin like an additional heat source against Hux’s back. Hux kept his eyes closed, his head settling on Ben’s shoulder. Ben didn’t rush him, just held him close and pressed soft kisses along his neck.

Gentle movement and the sensation of something touching his hair drew him out of his comfortable daze. 

“Ben,” he said calmly, “are you putting bubbles on my head?” 

The movement stopped. A kiss to his shoulder. “No.” 

“Hmm.”

Ben's hand swept over his hair, brushing the bubbles off and wetting it in the process. 

“This means you're shampooing it now,” Hux mumbled. 

“I was counting on it.” Ben's voice was soft and playful. “But first, the beard.” 

More movement, and then something warm and wet - a washcloth, Hux realized - was being settled over the lower half of his face, carefully adjusted so he could breathe through his nose. Hux almost laughed; Ben was being so incredibly thorough about all this he almost wondered if he'd been planning it. 

After a few more minutes cradled against Ben's chest, Hux reached up lazily and removed the cloth. 

“As much as I'm enjoying this,” he said, finally opening his eyes to peer up at Ben, “if we don't start soon the water will be cold before you're finished.” 

“We should invest in a hot tub,” Ben joked as he reached for the shaving cream. 

“Don't tempt me.” Hux reluctantly sat up and shifted to one side so he could face Ben, who reached out a pair of foam-covered hands and began patting over Hux's face. 

Ben rinsed his hands and then picked up the straight razor. Hux eyed it and then him. 

“Trust me?” Ben's mouth curved up a little but his gaze was sincere. 

Hux almost laughed. What a ridiculous question, even in jest. Ben had cared for him when he could barely think straight, when he couldn't walk, when he couldn't walk ten feet without getting winded. He'd been there through rage and frustration and numbness and he'd never asked too much or pushed too hard. There were times during those weeks when Hux trusted Ben more than he trusted himself. 

In answer, he put one hand over Ben's holding the razor and guided it to his cheek. 

Ben nodded, all business now. “Stay still for me,” he whispered, and took Hux's chin gently in his other hand. He tilted his head to one side and began to work. 

It took a few swipes to get the angle just right. Once Ben got it, the hair coming off cleanly onto the blade, he whispered a little _ah-ha_ under his breath. 

From there he continued in slow, steady downward strokes, cleaning the blade between each one in a bowl of water he'd set on the edge of the tub. He did Hux's right cheek first, then down the right side of his jaw, then the left cheek and left side, then the chin and underneath, extra careful as he worked near Hux's throat, then finally to the upper lip. He guided Hux's head this way and that with a gentle hand, whispering encouragement as he went, his deep eyes focused on what he was doing. 

Hux relaxed, keeping still as requested and giving himself over to the pampering. He couldn't talk, so he kept himself occupied by watching the expressions flicker over Ben's face as he worked and mapping the beauty marks on his skin. 

After what could have been two minutes or ten, Hux had lost track of time, Ben set the razor down. He picked up the towel again and gently wiped off any leftover shaving cream. Then he tilted Hux's chin up with his fingers and turned his head slowly side to side one last time, inspecting for missed spots. 

Finding none, he set the towel aside and picked up the bottle of aftershave. He poured a little into his palm, rubbed his hands together, the earthy smell of it blending with the floral scent of the bubble bath. He patted it onto Hux’s face, muttering _there_ under his breath, like an artist putting on the final touches to a masterpiece. 

Satisfied with his work, he sat back a little and blinked as if snapping out of a daze. He stared at Hux as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Well?” Hux said after a moment. “How do I look?” 

Ben’s lips curved up in that roguish way that was so often Hux’s undoing. “Well hello there, handsome.” He leaned in and Hux almost wished for the beard back just to hide some of the flush on his cheeks. “I almost forgot what you looked like under there,” he admitted, laughing quietly. 

Hux huffed. “There are pictures of me in our flat, and on your phone…” 

“That’s different.” 

“I don’t see h-” 

Then Ben’s hands came up, fingertips brushing over his face, sending a pleasant tingle over the freshly-shaven skin. Ben took a moment to feel the smoothness of it, then looped one arm around Hux’s shoulders and slid the other down to rest over his heart. He dipped in even closer, this time feeling with his lips, soft kisses along Hux’s cheeks and jaw. Hux shuddered, eyes drifting shut. He felt surrounded by Ben in the best way, seated between his strong legs, held in his arms, showered with his affection. 

Ben nuzzled Hux’s cheek with his nose, their foreheads bumping together. “My husband is so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered. He pressed another kiss to Hux’s jaw. 

Hux’s eyes opened and their gazes met, an understanding beyond words passing between them. A sense of possession and belonging. Of trust and support. Emotion welled up in Hux’s chest. 

 _My husband_. 

They'd gotten through so much together already. Whatever came next, they'd get through that, too. 

“Thank you,” Hux said quietly as he leaned in to kiss Ben. They both knew he didn't just mean for the shave.


	7. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the chapter count bump-up.... (this should be my default author's note damn.... :))
> 
> And sorry about the little cliffhanger there :) --sq

Ben had been right, with his good feeling about this one. They were ready to shake hands with him on the deal right then and there. The conditions were exactly as Ben said. Hux would come into a team that recently won a hefty grant, and more grant application options have opened for him now when he wasn't a part of the military.

The institute offered PhD access to labs but wasn't university affiliated which meant no teaching duties taking away from research. Hux would have enough time to tinker away on his book if he so wished. It was coming along nicely, he’d had the entire plotline down, and it would be nice to do something else aside from science, to keep his mind from getting too one-tracked.

They even allowed pets in the long term guest apartments.

It felt like pushing his good luck, having asked for a few days to consider the offer. But he needed to be absolutely sure that Ben would be on with the plan. There was also the question of Millicent. It didn't feel right to rob Ben of her presence - but loathe as he was to admit it, Hux would miss her, too.

Oh God, Hux laughed to himself as he turned the last corner on his way back to their apartment building, they haven’t been cat dads for a whole month and already they were about to discuss alternate custody.

But all in due time. Right now, everything Hux wanted was to stretch his stiff back, have a cup of strong black coffee and kiss his husband. Not necessarily in that order.

“Ben?” He called out, dropping his keys into the bowl on the hallway cabinet. No answer. But the door wasn’t locked so Ben had to be in… Hux halted, listening. Shuffling, thudding and odd wet sounds were coming from the kitchen, together with occasional hum or grunt. And then, Ben’s voice: “I got this feeling that woooon’t subside….”  

Ben was by no means a great singer but this snippet was so off-key Hux immediately knew what was going on.

“I look at you and I... faaaantasise...”

Ben was mopping the kitchen floor, earplugs in, humming along the song blaring from his phone. He didn’t notice Hux who leaned against the doorframe and watched, arms crossed and biting his lip to stay quiet.

Millicent was curled in the window seat, valiantly ignoring the spectacle with her eyes closed, only the tips of her ears twitching every time Ben’s sing-along rendition missed the key on a high note.

Ben’s feet were tapping out the rhythm, he was passing the mop handle between his hands like he would spin a dance partner, and his hips… Well, as Hux watched how Ben’s fine ass moved in those tight fitting jeans of his, he could understand why the song was called  _ Hungry Eyes. _

“‘Tidge!” Ben yelled, before he remembered to pull off the earplugs. Too late, Millie was already hightailing it under the sofa. Caught in the act of ogling his husband, Hux snapped his eyes up and mirrored Ben’s grin.

“I didn’t realize it’s gotten so late,” Ben let the mop fall to the floor and walked over to cross off number three on Hux’s to-do list. Even with the music away from his ears, his feet still carried him lightly, with a spring to his steps and mambo shimmy to his hips. He would often do that when moving around the flat, cleaning or tidying up, his feet randomly breaking out into some dance sequence, his movements turning smooth and liquid. Hux loved watching him like that.

“The traffic wasn’t as bad as I expected but I’m still dying for a coffee,” Hux said.

“That part of the floor is still wet,” Ben looked at the glistening pathway to the coffee maker. “Give it a minute.”

“Hmmm… may I have a dance in the meantime?”

The way Ben’s face lit up at the suggestion was a sight Hux would never tire of. Hux sauntered into the living room, turning just in time to see Ben setting something on his playlist. Then he stepped close and put one of the earplugs into Hux’s ear, keeping the other in his own.

“Gotta hold you close,” Ben winked, tugging at the short cable connecting them now.

“Or I could just fetch my wireless earplugs...” Hux smirked, going willingly with the tug of Ben’s arms locked around his waist, kissing away the indignant pout.

“What’s the song, then?”

In lieu of a reply, Ben just wiggled his eyebrows, pressed the Play button on the phone slipped into this pocket, and started to move. It took only a few beats for Hux’s body to mold itself along the shape of his husband’s, following the lead and letting his heart synchronize with the gentle picking of the guitar accompanying the song.

“I should’ve guessed, you sap,” he sighed, laying his head on Ben’s shoulder. It was their wedding song. Still Ben’s favorite, even after ten years passed.

Ben chuckled; Hux felt the rumble of it where their chests were pressed together and it sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. Ben turned his head a little to nuzzle Hux’s hair.

“You love it too,” he whispered low into Hux’s ear.

Hux hummed. “Maybe,” he admitted with a smile. His hands on Ben’s back, he felt around with his right hand for his wedding ring on his left. “Ten years,” he mused. “Not bad.”

Ben laughed again but it quickly faded. His arms tightened around Hux and Hux knew without words exactly what he was thinking.

 

*

 

_ “Sir?” The voice of a nurse from the doorway snapped Ben out of staring at his sleeping husband, something he’d been doing a lot of lately. He looked up and stretched out of the position he’d held for nearly an hour, wincing at the stiffness in his back and shoulders. _

_ She stepped into the room. “Your husband’s things.” She was holding a small pile of clothes - what Hux must have been wearing under his training gear. They would have removed it all for the surgeries; a few of them were cut in half and unsalvageable. And there on top, something gleaming and silver that made his heart stutter with relief. Hux’s wedding ring. _

_ “Thank you,” he said sincerely, taking the pile. The nurse left them alone again. Ben set the clothes aside and picked up the ring, turning it over in his fingers and sighing. _

_ As he looked at it, the engraving on the inside caught his eye: their wedding date, 5/27/17, and a pair of joined hearts. _

_ Ben’s eyes widened. That date - he’d lost track of time in his panic over the accident, hadn’t seen the day approaching, but now it hit him - their tenth anniversary was tomorrow. _

_ Several feelings hit him one after the other. Relief that he’d noticed in time. Sadness that Hux would spend it this way. More relief, that at least Hux had lived to see their ten-year. And then resolution, to do something special even if it couldn’t be the trip to Yellowstone they’d been planning. Now that the worst was behind them and Hux was set on the path to healing, Ben felt comfort in the knowledge that they could plan a new trip, maybe next year. _

_ The next day he talked the nurses into letting him stay past visiting hours. They rolled their eyes; he’d been doing that since the day Hux arrived and no one had tried to stop him yet, but they found it sweet that he still bothered to ask. _

_ After spending most of the day with Hux, he left as usual, with a kiss to Hux’s head and a whispered ‘I love you’ and a promise to return the next day. _

_ Then, an hour later, he returned. _

_ Hux was sitting up reading a little before bed. His eyes were blinking sleepily but he was stubbornly trying to finish the chapter he was on. When Ben stepped in, he looked alarmed and Ben immediately felt guilty. _

_ “You’re back? Did something happen?” _

_ “No, no!” Ben quickly reassured him. He kept his arms behind his back and once Hux’s face softened from its fearful look, he noticed and tilted his head in question. _

_ Ben moved his hands out in front of him - in them he held a box of truffles from Maison Trésor, the sweets shop they both loved. _

_ Ben came over and settled carefully, so carefully at the edge of the bed beside Hux, looping an arm around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. Hux set his book aside and took the box from him, peeking inside. _

_ “I won't stay long, I know you need to sleep, but…happy anniversary, babe.” _

_ Hux blinked a few times, processing what he'd said. “It's...is it...oh.” He frowned up at Ben. “I'm sorry…” _

_ “‘Tidge, I think you've had other things to worry about,” Ben gave him a squeeze. “Don't worry.” _

_ Hux nodded, too tired to argue. He handed Ben the box and watched him pick one and break it in two. Ben held one half to Hux's lips for him to take while popping the other into his own mouth. _

_ Hux hummed at the familiar taste of his favorite pastry. “This is the best thing I've ever tasted.” _

_ “I'll bet, after two weeks of hospital food, “ Ben replied with a laugh. _

_ They sat together, eating and talking quietly until Hux couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. _

 

_ * _

 

“Not how I pictured spending our tenth anniversary,” Hux said with a sigh. “We'll have to do something special next year.” He began to smile against Ben's neck in spite of himself. “If I accept this position, I'll get a nice chunk of vacation time, we can go anywhere…”

Silence. Hux could practically hear it like a timer - tick, tick, tick,  _ ding!  _ \- as Ben caught the implication of his words.

Ben took Hux's shoulders and pulled back just enough to see his face, eyes wide. He fumbled into his pocket with one hand to find his phone and pause the music.

“Accept the…’Tidge, did you - “

Hux grinned and nodded. “They offered me the position.”

Ben's face broke into that bright, toothy, ear-to-ear smile that made his eyes scrunch up.

“Babe!” He laughed. “Why didn't you tell me first thing! You know what, nevermind, I don't even mind, I'm,” he cupped Hux's face and kissed him firmly like he just couldn't help it. “I'm so fucking proud of you! I knew you could do it!”

Hux's smile grew and he let himself bask in Ben's excitement for him for a moment. The encouragement, the belief in him that Ben had was like a healing balm soothing over the years of his father's disappointment.

Ben’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Can’t believe I finally get my dream come true,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “All those years of me fantasising about climbing into your bedroom in the barracks through the window… please tell me that the apartments there are no more than two storeys.”

Hux barked out a surprised laugh but soon calmed down again. This wasn't a sure thing, not yet.

“If,” Hux interrupted gently. “If I accept it. I have to get back to them by the end of the week.”

Ben blinked at him. “Why wait? This is perfect, it's exactly what you've been waiting for.” His expression shifted, understanding dawning. “Is it the distance?”

“Yes,” Hux admitted. “Living two places, apart from you...going back and forth all the time...plus there's Millicent…”

“She's yours.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“I love her but let's face it, you're her favorite dad.” Ben smiled, unbothered by it.

“Oh, am I?” Hux mused, feeling mischievous.  “Why is she then taking so much after you?”

“Me?” Ben feigned a gasp. “She’s literally-”

“If you say ginger I  _ will  _ tickle you,” Hux warned him. Ben squirmed and giggled anyway, body acting on reflex from the many times this threat became reality.

“Actually, I was going to say a picky eater just like you.”

“Hmmm, funny. But the way she makes a mess around the flat, that’s from you,” Hux countered.

“She has your stubbornness, that’s for sure.”

“And your grace in movements,” Hux switched tactics and suppressed a laugh at the way Ben’s thought process visibly stuttered, the praise softening his face. Then Ben tilted his head, and Hux could see his eyes light up as, apparently, the perfect rejoinder came to him.

“You’re right. She’s definitely taken after me. ‘Cos she loves you so much,” Ben drawled and then squeaked when the tickle came without warning. Hux shook his head, feeling his smile drop as his thoughts turned more serious again.

“She loves both of us, and she’s fond of this place...”

“You can bring her back and forth with you. Whatever you want to do. We can make this work.” He paused, eyes flicking over Hux's face. “If you want it, that is,” he added. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

Hux took a deep breath, looking into Ben's eyes. He was serious; he'd support this, if it was what Hux wanted. That meant more than Hux could put into words. Instead of trying, he stepped close again, pressing against Ben.

“I need to think about it.” He reached up and readjusted the earbud in Ben's ear, letting his fingers linger and trace the shell of it before moving down to his pocket. “We didn't get to finish our song,” he said quietly, and then he hit play.

Ben understood. He resumed their previous position, arms snug around Hux, who let his head rest rest on Ben's shoulder once more. Ben tipped his head against Hux's and they began to sway to the familiar music.

Slowly, Hux's hands slid down to rest on Ben's lower back, pressing, possessive, trying to draw him closer. Ben's sturdy chest rose and fell as his breath picked up a little. He huffed and dipped his head down to nibble lightly at Hux's ear.

“Tease,” he mumbled, but he was smiling. “Two can play at that game…”

He drew Hux in tighter, fingers trailing up and down his back, and began to whisper endearments, barely audible over the music. Hux fought a grin, but the sweet-talk grew sweeter and sweeter until it verged on ridiculous and Hux began to laugh.

Needing to gain the upper hand, Hux shifted in Ben's grip, slotting their hips together just so. Ben's triumphant giggle stuttered, his hands clenched and unclenched fistfuls of Hux's shirt.

The song ended and Hux gently removed the earplugs, letting them drop to dangle from Ben's pocket. Their swaying gradually slowed. Ben's cheek was warm where it pressed to Hux's; his breath was shaky. His hands slid lower, towards Hux's thighs. Then, in one steady motion, Ben hoisted him up. Hux's legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his shoulders. Ben began kissing at the hollow of Hux's throat, just above his shirt collar.

“I think we should celebrate,” he mumbled between kisses.

Hux tilted his head back, smiling at this victory. Ben could tease and tease, but he was always the one to give in first. In the end, they both got what they wanted.

“I agree,” Hux answered as Ben carried him to the bedroom.

  
  


*

 

The club was crowded, there was a line forming in front of the bar, and Hux had to employ increasingly deadlier glares to keep the stool next to him unoccupied. Finally, Ben emerged from the back room, changed from his dance outfit into his usual jeans and shirt, and elbowed his way through the thirsty mob to Hux.

“You took your sweet time,” Hux greeted him when Ben got close enough to hear without Hux shouting.

“This is the last time I let Joey pick up the costumes,” Ben winced. “I actually think the topmost layer of my skin came off too when I finally peeled it off.”

“I imagined peeling it off you the whole time I watched your number,” Hux leaned over to whisper in his ear and then moved the extra ginger cider bottle in front of him over to Ben’s place. “Bottom’s up. You must be thirsty.”

“Apparently, not as thirsty as some,” Ben grinned and then winced again as he hoisted himself up to sit on the bar stool. “Ow. I think I pulled a muscle with the last split.”

“Or it’s just your ass hurting from how they handed it to us,” Mike grumbled, emerging out of the crowd to come to stand on the other side of Ben. Hux snorted at Ben’s outraged face and handed Mike the cider he just ordered, signalling the bartender for another.

“You came third out of eight,” he remarked. “That’s not half bad.”

“We’re getting beaten by school kids,” Mike complained. “Do you see anyone of the winning group at the bar? Nope, ‘cos they'd get ID’ed away!”

Someone cleared their throat behind Mike.

“Actually, Brian here is twenty two,” Pete said, pulling forward a young man with a shy smile on his tanned face, short sun-bleached hair still dripping with sweat from their encore. Hux remembered noticing him before while watching the winning number, mostly because of the boy's built physique that reminded him of the KOR.

“Hi,” Brian said, a little awkward, as he clinked the bottle Ben handed him against the others’. “And you weren't wrong, the guys in our group are mostly nineteen.” He gulped down half the bottle at once and Hux couldn't shake off the feeling that it was more of nervousness than because of being parched after the competition. What did the boy have to be nervous about? They won, and it was a victory well deserved.

“That's also why I asked…” he glanced at Pete, licking his lips and chewing over his next words, “... today, that was our last hurrah, so to say. Three guys move across the states to college next year and our choreographer enlisted and…”

“Oh,” Ben nodded with sympathy, “that's hard. Honestly I am amazed that our group is still holding on after eighteen years.”

“That's why I brought Brian here,” Pete turned to Ben. “I've got to quit, boss, and I think Brian would be perfect to take my place,” he said simply.

Hux wasn't nearly as surprised at the announcement as the rest of the Knights, now gathered around them at the bar, much to the annoyance of other patrons. He'd expected it for some time, with the baby Pete's wife was expecting, her demanding career and Pete's decision to be the stay-at-home dad. And from Ben's understanding expression, he knew it wasn't an out-of-the-blue news for him too.

“I used to watch the KOR YouTube vids, like, ever since I knew I wanted to be a dancer,” Brian rushed out. “It'd give anything for a chance… If you'd have me-”

Hux suddenly understood the boy's nervousness and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Brian was star-struck.

“I'd say, come to our practice after the weekend and we'll see how you fit with us,” Ben said carefully, evidently not wanting to feed Brian false hopes before he'd have the chance to talk it through with the Knights, somewhere quiet and private. But Hux could see the considering look in his husband's eyes and already knew what his decision would be.

Later that night, Hux caught Ben staring across the club dancefloor towards the corner where Brian's group gathered, sipping on their fruit cocktails. Every so often some girl would stop by them and pick one of them to dance with, and Hux noticed Ben following the dancing pairs with his gaze, the same thoughtful look in his narrowed eyes. He was assessing the way they moved, Hux realized. Sizing them up.

“He said three or four guys are leaving the state,” Ben said eventually, as if to himself, sorting out his thoughts. “Do you think any of the rest would want to keep dancing too?”

Hux shuffled closer to him in their booth and nudged his shoulder with his chin until Ben turned his head and landed his absent-minded gaze on him.

“You don’t have to quit the group just to go with me,” Hux said in a low voice, barely loud enough for Ben to hear. He wouldn’t deny that some little part of him - that part that was conditioned from early age that he didn’t matter enough for anyone, at least until Techie was born - was fluttering with elation at the thought that Ben even considered doing something like that just to be with him. For him. But Hux knew himself and his own worth better now, and would never ask Ben to sacrifice too much.

The ‘lost-in-his-head’ look instantly slipped from Ben’s eyes as his attention shifted entirely on Hux. It always gave Hux a little thrilling kick, to feel the burning focus of those large, expressive eyes on himself, dark and intense like smouldering coal in a fireplace, ready to flare out if poked. But there was only warmth now, no heat; a sense of warmth and safety, not danger.

Ben carded his fingers through the loose hair of Hux’s fringe, tucking the strands behind one ear and trailing the tips of his fingers along the edge of his jaw.

“I would if you wanted me to,” he said just as quietly. “But… I’ve been thinking about it for some time, actually. I’m getting old, ‘Tidge,” he added wryly.

“Love, you’re barely thirty-seven...”

“For a professional dancer, that’s a lot,” Ben shifted a little in his seat, arranging his long legs under the table into different position. “You saw how the kiddos beat us today. If I was into ballroom dancing, I’d be competing in the veteran category by now.”

Certain things finally started to add up in Hux’s head. Ben’s grunts when he would get up from the floor after playing with Millicent… the popping of his joints after he would spend a while kneeling… the muscle he pulled tonight during the split. Hux’s body wasn’t the only one betraying its owner here.

“Mike, Riz and the rest can go fine for a while still,” Ben continued, “and I’ve been wracking my brain like crazy to find a way how to keep the group going… and then Pete came along with Brian and it hit me. It’s time to pass on the torch.”

Hux could see the plan Ben had in mind. This way, the KOR would never split, never end. They would only rejuvenate, slowly, one member at a time. The legacy would live on.      

“We can look for a place in Philly while you stay at the temporary lodgings,” Ben mused on. “Something with an extra bedroom, you know, for the Beebees when they'll come for a sleep-over. I’ve been thinking of opening a smaller dance studio, I would like to keep teaching...”

“You’ve really put a lot of thought into it,” Hux brushed his lips against the palm that still rested lightly on his cheek.

“Months,” Ben admitted. “Even before… you know.”

Hux squeezed his hand where it rested on Ben's forearm. It was a relief to know that Ben's decision didn't come entirely from his accident. Perhaps they were ready for a change without realizing it, and those unfortunate circumstances just sped things along.

Well, even though he would have preferred not to pay with his kidney for the new start of their lives, Hux thought with some sarcasm and then got up, pulling Ben with him. Both let out a groan - Hux from the evening spent sitting on various unforgiving surfaces and Ben from exhaustion after the competition.

“One sure-fire sign you're getting old is when you're done partying before midnight,” Ben muttered and turned to the rest of the table, raising his voice.

“Guys, wrap this up without me. We're going home.”

A series of good-night wishes and a couple of suggestive whistles welled up from the group, those close enough rising to hug them and the rest waving. Ben took Hux's hand and together they wove through the dancing crowd and towards the exit.

The line for the bar was even longer now, the crowd denser. As they tried to slip past, an argument broke out between the impatient club goers and suddenly Ben’s path was blocked by a flailing body of a man, stumbling or being shoved out of the line and landing hard on his ass right in front of them. Hux pulled to a halt just in time to avoid tripping over him.

“Hey, watch where y’going!” the man yelled, words slurred with drink. Then he jerked up his head, some kind of liquid dripping down his face and mixing with the spit around his mouth, his fishy eyes widened with recognition, and immediately his face went red with fury.

“Why, if this isn’t little Motti,” Hux drawled, making a show of dusting off the front of his jacket where the man’s flailing limbs brushed against it on his way to the floor. It’s been years but he’d recognised that sputtering, blotchy man anywhere. Especially when he was just as red and dripping with a drink thrown in his face when they last saw him... 


	8. Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux gets his fight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end!
> 
> This got much longer and more in-depth than either of us expected, I think. :) We just had so many ideas and were having so much fun adding to their world. We hope you enjoyed it too. <3 --frap
> 
> To think that all this began to crystallize sometime during last Autumn as a vague "Hux gets hurt and Ben gets him Millicent" idea.... um. We might have gone a bit overboard. We don't regret it. --squire
> 
> Tags have been updated to include recent chapters.
> 
>  *WARNING: There is one use of a homophobic slur. It's brief and the character gets what's coming to him, but I wanted to leave an additional warning so no one is caught off guard.

_They’d been dating for seven months. After that much time, other couples would be probably already living in each other’s pockets, but with Ben being busy with the dance group and job and Hux’s strict Academy regime, and with their mutual decision to take things slowly, they were still in that stage where everything felt fresh and fragile. Tonight saw them going to a restaurant, a nice one Hux had picked for them. Ben had shown up nervous but excited in a button-up that was slightly too tight and pants that were slightly too long. Hux didn’t care; it was their first time seeing each other in two weeks._  

 _They sat side-by-side at their circular table, talked, held hands under the table and snuck kisses. Hux ordered them wine and refused to let Ben look at the price of it. They shared appetizers, they drank, they laughed. It was perfect, and Hux dreaded having to part when the night was over._  

 _Suddenly, out of nowhere, the easy smile on Ben’s face dropped. Hux mentally checked his past words – had he said something wrong? But Ben wasn’t even looking at him. Hux followed his gaze across the room, to a man and woman who were being led to the booth next to theirs. Watching them, Ben had gone very pale._  

 _Before Hux could say anything, the man noticed them and a sneer crossed his face that Hux did not like one bit. To Hux’s alarm, instead of puffing up with that seemingly easy self-confidence that one would expect with Ben’s height and bulk and looks, Ben shrank back into the seat._  

 _“Order a drink, love, I’ll be right there,” the man said to his date. Then he came to stand at their table._  

 _“Well if it isn’t little Benny Solo,” the man said, a little too loudly._  

 _“Hey there, Motti,” Ben said, trying for bored disinterest, but his voice cracked, giving him away._  

 _Said Motti was a short man, nearly a foot shorter than Hux. He had the sort of face that looked smug without trying. He couldn’t have been much older than Ben, but his hairline was already beginning to recede, something he’d tried to hide by combing it to one side. He gave off the demeanor of someone in a less-than-honest profession, and he was looking at Ben like Ben was a sucker about to be talked into buying a new vacuum._  

 _“Well, not_ little _,” Motti continued as though he hadn’t heard Ben’s greeting. He laughed as though he’d said something incredibly funny. “Never were, were you? We all thought you’d at least grow into those ears, though.”_  

 _Hux nearly bit his tongue snapping his teeth together. He loved Ben’s ears but he knew Ben didn’t feel the same, that’s why he kept them hidden under his long hair. He settled a placating hand on Ben’s thigh when he felt him tensing._  

 _Motti continued speaking like a man in love with his own voice, oblivious to Hux glaring daggers through him._  

 _“In fact, the girls in our class seemed to think you’d grow up into some sort of stud. Remember, Cassandra wanted to nominate you for_ Most Likely to Get Hot _in the yearbook? Maybe you don’t remember...you never were interested in girls, were you?” His cruel gaze flickered to Hux then back. “Some things never change I guess.”_  

 _Hux’s pulse was loud in his ears as he began to fear that it was his own temper that would make an appearance. If Ben decided to lash out, Hux would_ let _him, nice restaurant be damned._  

 _But when he looked at Ben, his heart sank. Instead of vibrating with barely checked in anger like Hux, Ben had  pressed himself back into the booth. His gaze was distant and his face was red up to the tips of his ears poking out through his hair. His jaw was clenched, twitching slightly, lips pursed. He didn’t look like a man about to attack; he looked like someone trying not to_ break down _._  

 _It took a moment, and then it clicked. Of course. Hux was all too familiar with this particular response to past humiliation._  

 _On the surface Hux remained the picture of calm, but inside something snapped. He squeezed Ben’s thigh and then stood, facing the man across the table._  

 _“Motti, is it?” he said casually. “My father knew a Motti. Crooked car mechanic, we stopped going there after one too many ripoffs. Any relation?”_  

 _Motti turned his sneer on Hux, but Hux continued before he could get a word in._  

 _“Well, Motti...I find your lack of manners disturbing.”_  

 _He heard Ben’s sharp intake of breath, felt the little tug on his sleeve. “You don’t have to, we can just go somewhere else-“_  

 _No. Hux wasn’t about to let this scumbag ruin their first night together in weeks. And he wasn’t about to let Ben think it was fine to let people stomp all over him for fun._  

 _“That won’t be necessary,” Hux said. He could feel Ben’s wide-eyed gaze on him but he couldn’t look at him yet. If he saw all the emotion in those big brown eyes he’d probably jump over the table and strangle Motti himself._  

 _A lot was becoming clear about this man. His suit was cheap and a bit old. He wore far too much cologne, had too much gel on his hair. The wristwatch he wore was clearly a knockoff of a better brand. Hux glanced over at Motti’s date, a well-dressed woman rolling her eyes in the booth beside them. She was familiar… and when Hux made the connection, a grin spread across his face._  

 _“Miranda?” he addressed her now. “Or was it Melinda...it was always so hard to keep track of who my father’s friends dated. You’re looking well.”_  

 _Motti’s face fell and he turned to his date, who had frozen with her glass of wine halfway to her lips._  

 _“It’s nice to see you’ve gotten rid of your high standards,” he continued, indicating Motti with a nod of his head. “They were really limiting you.”_  

 _The woman raised her eyebrows and set the glass down. “What is that supposed to mean?”_  

 _“Oh, nothing really. Cearly men of a certain social standing weren’t working out for you. I bet you’ll be much happier with someone more...frugal?”_  

 _That did the trick. The woman set her incredulous gaze on Motti. “What is he talking about? You said you were-"_  

 _“Now, love, don’t listen to him, I’m- “ Motti darted to the booth, riveting all his honeying attention back on her, but she wasn’t having it. Her accusations grew louder and so did his excuses and soon they were shouting at each other, drawing the attention of the whole room._  

 _Hux sat back down and slid his arm around Ben’s waist. Ben watched, speechless, as the restaurant manager appeared at the table and asked the fighting couple to leave. The woman tossed the remainder of her drink in Motti’s face and stormed out, followed by a red-faced, cursing Motti._  

 _When Hux finally met Ben’s gaze, Ben’s eyes were wide and shining. Hux quickly cleared his throat and asked: “Are you alright?”_  

 _Ben dropped his gaze and nodded. “We went to school together,” he explained, though Hux had gathered as much. “When I was new there, he was surrounded with friends and popular, and I - I had a crush on him.” Ben’s frown deepened as he said it. “I told someone who I thought was a friend, but they told someone else and...the next day Motti knew,_ everyone _knew. He and his friends ganged up on me from then on. I was an easy target - new kid, gangly, goofy-looking. I was so angry all the time. That’s when the fights started and…” he trailed off with a sigh. “Anyway. Sorry.”_  

 _Hux, who had been a gangly teenager who liked math, understood perfectly. “Ben.” Hux cupped his still red face with one hand and turned it to look at him. “I know what one person thinks might not mean much after years of being treated like that. But for what it’s worth....I happen to like you very much. And I also happen to think you’re…”_  

Beautiful, gorgeous, perfect _all danced at the edge of his tongue, but they were too much, Ben could think them too much and not take them seriously, not the way Hux meant it..._

 _“...incredibly handsome. I’m glad you didn’t let people like that keep you from becoming who you are. Because then I might not be sitting here with the hottest date in the entire town, and that would be a shame.”_  

 _Ben had stared at him, and then his face split in to one of those ear-to-ear grins that made his eyes scrunch up and Hux’s heart melt._  

_Hux smiled too, and then Ben was dipping in for a long kiss. And then the food arrived, and they put it behind them, believing it would be the last time they had to deal with someone like that._

 

*

  


Well, obviously it wasn’t the last time, judging by the belligerent way Motti was scrambling back to his feet. Ben didn’t want to waste time with him, though. He calmly stepped around him, tugging Hux along by the hand and ignoring the avalanche of slurred curses Motti was spitting in his direction. The would-be conman was clearly drunk and fishing for a fight but Ben had no intention to accommodate him. He turned away from him and headed for the exit. 

The hard shove that landed between his shoulder blades surprised him, enough to stumble a little. Ben was a good number of inches and pounds taller and heavier, trying to provoke him looked like a crazy miscalculation, but drink has apparently blurred Motti’s ability to notice such important details. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, faggot!” 

Ben halted and slowly turned around. Everyone around momentarily stopped talking, some even breathing. The crowd parted around them, making a little circle of free space around Motti who stood there, shoulders hunched and feet shuffling, either trying to find his balance or preparing to run. 

A couple of dancers from one of the competing groups began to make their way through the circle of onlookers. Ben could see Pete emerging close, fist already curled in preparation. He could smell the punch brewing in the air. 

Twenty years ago, Ben would have been the first to throw it, no matter the trouble. But not today. Some sycophantic profiteering bullies were beneath him. 

“I think you’ve made enough of an idiot of yourself, Motti–” Ben cut short his words and jerked his head to the side, just in time to avoid the bottle Motti threw at him. The sound of shattered glass, loud even over the background music, broke the stunned silence of the people around. Someone yelped, someone else cursed, Motti moved to strike- 

Ben barely saw the flash of ginger out of the corner of his eye when suddenly Motti went to the ground in a heap, head bowed so low he nearly knocked it against the floor, one of his arms wrenched back and up, wrist pushed at a painful angle between his shoulder blades. 

“Let go, that hurts, you broke my knee you fucke-Aaaargh!” 

Above him, Hux twisted the arm in his hold another couple of degrees and bared his teeth. 

“Ben, love,” he asked with a icy smile, “Could you please call the police? I have some trash I need them to take out.” 

Ben stared. Only when the steel glint in Hux’s eyes gave way to the slightest flicker of uncertainty, a soft _Ben?_ almost forming on his lips, he came to himself and broke into action. His willed his hands not to shake as he pulled out his phone but still he needed three tries to hit the right number. 

It happened so fucking _fast_ . He knew, rationally, that Hux was a soldier trained in hand-to-hand combat, plus who knows what they taught him during the preparation for the Djibouti mission. But what made Motti underestimate him so much that he didn’t even pay attention to him until the moment he was forced to beg for mercy - what made even Ben forget this side of Hux sometimes - was the fact that Hux didn’t _look_ it. 

Between the two of them, people assumed Ben was the one they needed to look out for.

But Hux was tough, and quick, and most importantly, knew when and where to strike. Instead of brutal strength, he had deadly efficiency. One mean kick to the back of knees, one or two clever grasps and holds and a man was reduced to a crying mess.   

And another man was currently having serious trouble thinking straight. 

The moment the situation was sorted - the club bouncers dragging Motti out, the people going back to their business, the club atmosphere returning to normal - Ben grabbed Hux’s hand again and all but pulled him out and onto the street. 

Hux followed with a smirk playing around his lips, even though his brows were still slightly pinched with something like concern. He was also purposefully slowing them down. Ben didn’t understand. 

“Ben… was it too much? I know you didn’t want a scene - I’m not usually this...” Hux let the word hang in the air. Vicious. Brutal. 

“You just seemed rather… shocked back there...” Hux added quietly. 

Ben looked at him, uncomprehending, and then it finally clicked. No, he wasn’t put off by Hux mercilessly taking down a brute. He wasn’t even fantasising about Hux roughing him up in bed. What was really making him suddenly hurry home as if his life depended on it was that those same hands that could snap a man’s neck, were always so gentle, so loving with him. As if he was the most special thing in the world. 

“No!” he blurted out. “It was - you were - fuck, Hux, I think my brain just turned off for a while, that’s all.” 

Hux’s eyes narrowed. Ben could feel the focus on his already heated skin like additional lick of a flame. Then something seemed to click within Hux’s head in turn. 

“Oh well,” his smirk widened, “let’s hope you managed to turn yourself on by now,” and with that he casually slid a hand around Ben’s hips and into his jeans back pocket, squeezing. 

Ben nearly choked and when he finally caught his breath, his face was red even in the washed-out light of the street lamps. Oh, he was very much turned on. Hux’s possessive grab came exactly in the moment Ben was imagining those hands pinning him to bed and taking care of him. 

Ben thanked all his lucky stars that the walk home from the club was only a short one. He didn’t know how much longer he would’ve held out _not_ pouncing Hux right on the darkened, but still very public street. 

Then he remembered something and had to laugh. “Oh my god ‘Tidge,” he chuckled, “I’m so glad I didn’t try to - how was it - _deck_ you, back in the park, remember? That would’ve been so embarrassing...” 

Hux laughed too, steering Ben along the sidewalk and enjoying the play of muscles under his fingers. “Don’t worry, I don’t - _wipe the floor_ , was it? - with pretty young things.” They were almost home. He waited until only a few steps remained to their apartment building entrance to casually add: “I only do that with people who try to hurt what’s _mine_.” 

That did it. Ben almost physically heard the last thread of his self-restraint _snap_ and fly away down the street. He spun them around, backed Hux the last remaining steps into the door and kissed him with everything he’s got.

 

*

 

They never made it to the bedroom that night.

 

*

 

Half-way through the night, Millie decided that her favorite spot under the living room sofa was no longer her favorite.

 

*

 

Time flew faster when he was immersed in something, Ben realized when he heard Hux coming home with fresh bread rolls and he wasn't even halfway done. He hastily shoved everything under his laptop and pulled up a random website on the browser just in time. 

“Morning, love. Looking at houses again?” 

“Hmm-hmm.” Ben hoped Hux wouldn't notice him wiping off his fingers on his pajama bottoms. He left the hand awkwardly stuck in his lap when Hux came over to the hug him from behind. 

“I’m afraid we couldn't afford those even with my pension,” Hux frowned at the display on the website. Belatedly, Ben realized those were the very mansions they had made fun of together a couple of days before. He almost brought his hand up to grab the mouse and click out of there before he remembered to keep it snug in his lap. 

Of course, Ben's best attempts on sneaky couldn't fool Hux even on a good day, and today was very much not a good day to practice subterfuge. 

“Ben? What's wrong with your hand?” 

 _Caught literally red-handed,_ Ben thought with fond resignation and didn't resist when Hux brought his hand palm up, revealing the pads of his fingers smudged with various shades of orange. 

“Is that… pastel?” Now that he knew what to look for, Hux immediately spotted the haphazardly hidden sketchbook under Ben's laptop and pulled it out. 

“May I?” 

Ben bit his lip, feeling the blush rising up his face but oddly relieved all the same. He didn't even know why he was hiding this for so long. Hux would never laugh at him. 

“When you were at the hospital, sometimes you'd be away for some procedure, or just napping, with the meds and… and then your mom came around and gave me art supplies, for you when you get bored, and it happened I was bored and so…” 

“Oh.” Hux flipped through the pages, pausing every now and then to admire something. “I thought you were reading.” 

“Babe, one of the reasons I dropped out of the school my mom chose for me was that I couldn't read five pages in one go without falling asleep,” Ben hid his face in the fabric of Hux's sleeve, not wanting to look at his own drawings. They seemed ridiculous, flawed and incompetent when he imagined them through Hux's eyes. 

“Love, these are beautiful.” 

Ben looked up at Hux's face to make sure he wasn't kidding and then back at the sketchbook. Hux held it open on the last drawing, half-finished study of himself asleep in bed, morning light streaming through his hair, Millicent curled on the covers right next to him. 

“So much orange,” Hux chuckled and Ben beamed. 

“My favorite color. You're not… mad?” 

“Mad at my husband drawing me much more beautiful than I am? How could I?” 

Ben growled and spun on his chair in Hux’s loose embrace, stopping to face him and nuzzling his face into Hux’s stomach. The wool of his light blue sweater was warm and soft, just like the skin underneath. 

“Even if I could draw so much better that it would look like a photograph, I still wouldn’t be able to capture everything that makes you beautiful,” he said, savouring the tensing and jumping of muscles under his face accompanying Hux’s tiny bursts of laugh. He tilted his head back, propping his chin against Hux’s stomach and gazed up. 

“I love the way your face can hold several expressions at once, you know. Because most people won’t see them all, or catch them all. And I feel so privileged that I can. Like sometimes when you look mad to everyone else but I know that inside you’re laughing your ears off. Or when something really makes you mad and everyone would think you’re the best put together person for miles around and I know that you just want to lay down and sleep until those idiots are extinct or...” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Hux told him. 

“Right now!” Ben lifted his eyebrows, both hands stroking Hux’s back and too busy to point. “Your mouth does that ‘Write your will before you displease me any further’ thing while your eyes tell me you’re loving it.” 

Hux gave up and started laughing. He would tell anyone that it was because Ben’s talking tickled him but from the way Ben joined in with the mirth Hux knew he wasn’t fooled.   

“I have the most ridiculous and talented husband,” Hux said when he calmed down a little. “Is this something you think of pursuing? Because I think you should.” 

Ben shrugged. “Well, I will have a bit more time than I used to once we’re moved and settled...” 

“You’re right,” Hux said. “I think it’s only fair if I show you something, too...” and with that, he fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the documents app. His mouth was set in that self-confident little smirk he habitually wore but his eyes blinked just a little faster, his gaze flicking just a little too from one thing to another to conceal his nervousness from Ben. 

 _It all began one late afternoon in the park. Or perhaps the real beginning happened earlier that day, at a nearby school, where two ten-year olds got into a screaming match about whose brother is better…_  

Ben looked up from the screen, frowning and then widening his eyes in awe when the words clicked in his head. 

“‘Tidge? Is this a story about… us?” 

Hux was still looking everywhere but directly at him. “Some parts are… eh, inspired by real events. And it’s still not finished.” 

Ben was quickly scrolling down. “So many words already,” he breathed. 

“Well, our lives haven’t been exactly monotonous,” Hux pointed out. 

“That’s true,” Ben chuckled. “And I wouldn’t… actually, yes. I _would_ change the seconds I gave you trouble, and those when you’re in pain.” He rubbed his free palm up and down over the base of Hux’s spine, skimming lightly over the map of scars left behind by surgeries. “But I wouldn’t change being with you, for anything.” 

There wasn’t anything to be said in response to it that wouldn’t have been better expressed with a kiss, and so Hux leaned down and kissed Ben in a way that left behind no doubts about how exactly he meant it. 

“Do I get to read it?” Ben piped up a good half-minute later and slightly breathless. 

“You’ll get to illustrate it,” Hux promised.

 

*

 

The lights in the studio were turned down to their dimmest setting. It was late evening and the street lights outside cast long shadows through the windows of the empty room. Ben stood at one end, looking across the space that had been like a second home. 

He and the Knights had found this place nearly sixteen years ago when it was still a run-down ballet studio. The owner and instructor had let them practice for free on evenings there weren't any classes, and when she retired she sold it to them for next to nothing. Once they started getting more steady gigs and saved a little from their side jobs they fixed it up and made it their own. 

This was where Ben slept many nights on a worn mattress in the back room, couch-hopping between here and the guys’ places when he left home, before his parents accepted his choice of career. It was where he first introduced Hux to the Knights, where both he and Pete had announced their engagements, where Ben told them he was going to be an uncle and Pete told them he was going to be a father. It was where they'd comforted Mike when his father passed, where Joey had studied between classes and practice, where Riz and Manu fell in love. Rey had practically grown up here; Ben could still picture her little ponytail swinging as Pete spun her, her giggle echoing through the room. 

His throat felt tight and he could feel a prickle at the corners of his eyes. He was glad he'd let the guys go on ahead while he locked up. Pete was the last to walk out, shooting Ben a knowing look and a nod before he shut the door. Ben just...needed a minute. 

That was after their last practice all together. They were doing one final show before taking a break for the holidays. Next year practices would resume, but with Mike and Joey in charge and Brian and one of his crewmates joining to fill out the group. 

Ben took a deep breath, shuddering on the exhale. He didn't regret his decision, not at all. It was only a matter of time before the years of wear on his muscles and joints would catch up, and he'd rather step away on his own terms than be injured and forced out, or worse, unable to dance anymore. At least this way he could still teach, and dance for fun, and take his husband for a waltz around their living room. 

Plus he could open his own studio, and be closer to his new niece and nephew, and there would be lots to do living close to the city. With him in charge of his own schedule and Hux's new, less suffocating one, maybe they could actually _do_ some of the things they've been saying they were going to do for the past ten years. 

Still. All those years, all those memories. It had gone so fast. He just needed to process it all, to feel nostalgic for a bit before he went home. It wouldn't do to let Hux see him like this and feel guilty, not when he'd finally found a new career path, and especially not when it was something Ben had been considering since before the accident. 

He sighed. It was getting late, he should get going before… 

A creak to his left caught his attention and he tensed, his head turning slightly. The door opened, light from the spotlight out front streaming in. 

At first he thought it was one of the guys; maybe they'd forgotten something. But he was proven wrong when someone stepped inside, their figure and bright hair unmistakable even from across the room. 

He swiped at his eyes with one hand and sniffed quickly, hoping it was too dark for Hux to notice. Of course, that was laughable. Hux always noticed. 

Hux moved to the middle of the room, into the light. He looked Ben up and down appraisingly. His mouth curved up into a smirk but his eyes were soft. 

“I hear you're a fighter,” he said, voice quiet but clear in the empty room. 

It was a line of his from their first meeting, all those years ago. Ben smiled in spite of himself. Not missing a beat, he answered: “Funny, I've heard the same thing about you.” 

It was Hux's turn to smile. He stepped closer, a little hesitant, as though he'd interrupted something. “When there's something worth fighting for,” he said, echoing Ben's words from long ago, from when they almost broke up only to choose each other again. 

Well he'd certainly proven that. Fighting to heal, fighting pain and disappointment, fighting to find a new career, quite literally fighting for Ben the other day at the club. All so they could have this: a new beginning. 

Hux stepped close enough to reach out a hand and cup Ben's face, just in time to brush away a tear that slipped. He tilted his head, sympathy written all over his face. 

“I know,” he said, thumb stroking Ben’s cheek, “I know.” 

Ben exhaled shakily, but he was still smiling, grateful that he didn't have to explain. He leaned into Hux's hand and brought his own up to cover it. 

“It's just weird.. ” 

“Yeah,” Hux agreed. “I just drove past Renegados and thought, we'll never find a place quite like that in our new home. But if I know my husband, he'll sure as hell try.” 

Ben laughed, and if it sounded a little choked, Hux didn't comment on it. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again he already felt a little steadier, strengthened just by his husband's presence. 

“It sounds like we'll need that guest room for more than just the Beebees,” Ben said. “The guys are already making plans to visit. Mike and Joey want me to find all the good bars. Pete's already talking about taking his kid to the zoo and they aren't even born yet. Riz’s cousin Bodhi is a cargo line pilot and and he lives in Philly so Riz goes down there a lot. And where Riz goes, Manu goes…” 

He trailed off, looking around the room again. 

“Of course,” Hux said. “They can visit as often as they want. They're family, after all.” 

Ben's gaze returned to Hux, focused solely on him once more. He huffed. “What a family we've got. Our kid siblings started out as rivals and now they're married with kids of their own. Your mom the artist, my parents the rebels, the guys…” 

It didn't end there. There was Uncle Luke, wherever the hell he was now, and Mr. Bacca, even if no one could understand him. There was Maz and Maratelle and Millicent. There was Baze and Chirrut, Cassian and Jyn, who had all kept in touch. There were of course the Beebees, already getting so big. 

A whole big, odd family, a whole life they'd built. Too big and important to be left behind with a studio or a flat or a small town; it would be with them wherever they went. 

Ben laced their fingers together and brought their joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of Hux's hand. 

Hux smiled and pulled their hands over to kiss Ben's in return before lowering them to their sides. “Ready to go?” 

Ben didn't look around again. His eyes remained fixed on Hux. 

“Yeah. I'm ready.” 

And they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, kudosed, and commented! We appreciate it very much!
> 
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